Kidnapped
by BrokenKestral
Summary: Lucy makes a most unusual kidnapping victim - but then, that often happens when Aslan is creating the story.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Lucy has told me quite firmly but kindly that this story isn't mine, and while she'd be my friend, she's not really _mine_ either. It all started with their friend Jack - Clive Staples Lewis - the Professor at Oxford University who wrote them down first, she explained to me, and if anyone owns their stories (besides Aslan), it would probably be him, but she didn't mind if I wrote this one for her. It was my privilege to oblige.**

**A/N: This story won over Tumnus's by one vote, so it's being written first. But since Turtles is going to be finished soon (hopefully), I'll be alternating this one with the story about Tumnus pre LWW after it's done.**

**Beta'd by trustingHim17, so please blame me for all mistakes!**

OOOOO

It was early in the morning when twelve-year-old Queen Lucy successfully slipped away from her protective older siblings.* (She _did_ know how to handle her weapons, and it wasn't necessary to be chaperoned at _all_ times. She was very sure of it, even if her siblings disagreed.) She'd tucked a handkerchief, dagger, and her cordial** into her belt, threw on a red cloak with an attached red hood, and quietly and unobtrusively made her way outside, ready to begin the very long ride she had been longing for. A ride with a specific purpose: to explore and find an adventure.

And she knew just where she wanted to go to find it.

She had vague memories of walking through the Western Woods once, a long time ago. Years ago, it must have been. But just yesterday, dear Mr. Tumnus had come to tea, and they laughed as they remembered their first meeting, covered in snow, with parcels and with his umbrella. She'd gone right with him to his home that day. She'd never had a chance to explore, and today she wondered, excited, what she'd find. Maybe she'd even stop by his old house!

She took a chestnut horse from the stable, chatting cheerfully with the stable hands as they set the saddle (she was too short to pull it up well) and thanking them for their work, but she didn't invite anyone along for her ride. For some reason - maybe because few people went there - she thought they might disapprove. As she mounted, however, Robin*** and three of his Nestlings landed on her saddle, chirping their good mornings.

"Good morning!" she said, laughing and gently scooping the gray, youngest Nestling into the palm of her hand. She picked up her reins with the other and urged her horse onward.

"Where are you going, going, going?" sang Robin, his two-toned chirp repeating the last word.

"Exploring!"

"Come with! Come with! Come with!" came a chorus of chirps from all three Nestlings, and Lucy laughed again.

"Not this time," she said, somewhat regretfully. She hesitated. She could delay her plans. But she had been looking for this day for so long. Today was perfect for slipping away unnoticed. Susan was busy working very hard to avoid the current Calormene guests, three of whom had begun courting her. She was more than of age in Calormen, but she was not interested in people Lucy referred to as "oily, silver-snake-tongued graspers over thirty." The other three had been ready to dismiss the group from Cair Paravel, but Susan had been confident in her abilities to avoid them while continuing daily life. And she'd done it, brilliantly, but it did make her easier to avoid.

And Orieus had the Kings the _whole day_ for something they'd been groaning about (out of his earshot), so it was the perfect time. Neither Orieus nor her brothers were watching her.

She knew that meant this was probably a bad idea, but it was an adventure. Those included bad ideas. Besides - she felt like she needed to do this. "No, it's not a good idea for you to come," the Queen added.

"Why not? Not-not-not-not-not?" The Nestlings' feathers were drooping, and their tiny black eyes were heartbreakingly sad.

But living in Narnia inured people to all forms of sad expressions. "Because I'm going to the Western Wood, and maybe beyond it to the Lantern Waste." She glanced at the trees they were moving through, wondering if the Western Wood would look different farther in.

Before the Nestlings could begin to cheep - either their longing to come or their fear of the Waste - Robin chirped over them, "Queen Lucy, Queen Lucy, why go there? It's not a good place for songs, songs, songs. Or Queens, Queens, Queens."

"It's my adventure," Lucy confined, leaning forward to whisper. Even though she was sure the others wouldn't hear of it till tonight, she still felt like making it a secret was much more exciting. "I'm going exploring there."

Robin paused, but bowed. "I will take my Nestlings home, home, home, and come with you," he offered, and Lucy shook her head, ducking under an overhanging pine branch.

"Thank you Robin, but I think I need to do this myself," she said seriously.

Robin didn't like it, but Birds weren't prone to argue over people's plans that didn't bother them, their food, or their nests. "Then I shall await your Majesty's return," he said, bowing once more. Lucy smiled down at him, reaching over to touch his head with a finger.

"Thank you, Robin." He chirped to his three Nestlings, and they bowed and took off after their father. Lucy smiled as she watched them leave, then settled down into her saddle and urged her horse faster. The Western Woods was hours away.

They were pleasant hours. Lucy called greetings to all the Rabbits, Stags, and Birds she came across, and many hopped or walked alongside her for a few moments, thrilled to have met one of their Queens.

But as she rode further, the Narnians she met grew fewer and fewer. The trees grew closer together, and the path became overgrown, bushes branching into it, and the space between trunks smaller and smaller, the branches moving in a light breeze. Eventually Lucy dismounted and stood looking farther down the path.

"Chester, I think I'm nearly there by now," she told it. It snorted. It wasn't a Talking Horse (of course), but Lucy was used to talking to Animals by now, and she sometimes wondered if Chester was a Talking Horse that was only pretending. "But I don't think you can get through," she said. "Would you mind staying here?" she said, turning to Chester. He stayed still looking at her with one eye, ears flickering nervously. She looped the reins over a nearby tree branch, and her stomach rumbled. "I must be hungry. What is it, Chester?" she asked as the horse neighed. She turned back to the path and jumped.

A large Wolf was standing there.

"Goodness gracious me!" exclaimed Lucy.****

"Good afternoon," the Wolf said, smiling (without showing many teeth).

"Good afternoon," said Lucy, recovering herself. She paused for a moment. "Excuse me - I don't want to be rude - but do you live here?"

"On the path?" the Wolf asked, still smiling. "I shouldn't think so, Daughter of Eve."

"Oh - my name's Lucy."

The Wolf stiffened. Lucy thought it might be from shock. "One of The Four?"

"I am one of four siblings," Lucy said, puzzled.

"One of The Four enthroned in Cair Paravel?"

"Yes, that would be me. I'm Lucy - the youngest," Lucy explained.

"To be sure, to be sure," the Wolf said, absentmindedly. "How stupid of me! Your scent - but I've never seen any of you before, your Majesty. I am delighted. That is to say-" the Wolf paused, and Lucy thought the wind blew a shadow across her eyes. "I am perfectly delighted to meet you, your Majesty. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Felvren, of the Wolvreth Pack."

"I am very pleased to meet you, Felvren," Lucy said politely.

"What are you doing this far West?"

"I was going exploring," explained Lucy. "I'm rather glad to see you. I haven't seen another Narnian for miles. Would you like to share my lunch with me? I was going to eat it before exploring farther."

Felvren hesitated. "I am not sure you should be exploring this forest, nor stopping to eat lunch here." Her voice was soft, quiet, but held the faintest hint of a growl of warning.

"Why not?" Lucy queried. She looked again over the Wolf, down the foreboding path.

"There are many things here that do not love Daughters of Eve," Felvren warned. Lucy stuck her chin out stubbornly. She thought she'd gotten away from the overly protective Narnians!

"I have my dagger. I should be fine. But thank you anyway." She turned back towards Chester, who was used to all types of Narnians, but still regarding the Wolf with small trembles running through him. She hesitated; she didn't want to be rude to Felvren. Even if Chester didn't like her. "Would you like to share my lunch with me all the same?" she asked over her shoulder. Maybe she could find out more about the things in the Western Wood that she should avoid.

The Wolf sighed. "If you insist on eating here, Queen Lucy, it should not be on the open path. Would you care to come and share lunch with me in my home?"

"Oh," said Lucy in surprise, turning back again. "But wouldn't that make trouble for you?"

"It's only just around the corner," Felvren said. "There's more than enough to share these days." Her voice was sad, resigned, and it pulled at Lucy's heart.

"Well, it's very kind of you," said Lucy. "But I must get exploring, and I shan't be able to stay long."

"Then if you would follow me, Daughter of Eve, youngest of The Four. Fetch your food - then off the path here - that's the way. Now - off we go."

And that is how Lucy found herself following a Wolf, a food basket on her arm, and wondering what adventure would come next.

OOOOO

*I am not currently assigning her a personal guard while she's in Cair Paravel; though I'm aware this is common in fanfiction, and makes perfect sense, I tend to disagree with it. I think they often kept friends with them, but not guards. My reason (and canon examples) are as follows: The Four having guards is not canon, but a sensible conclusion drawn from our knowledge of royalty in this world. Narnia may be different. The first time we see a King or Queen close to being alone that I can think of is Tirian in _The Last Battle_. Tirian was at a hunting lodge with Jewel and only Jewel. Jewel was there as his friend, closest companion, and sword-brother. Even outside of Cair, exploring unknown places in _VOTD_, there are several times when Caspian went places with two other sovereigns (who should have needed guarding themselves), their less-than-talented-cousin who would be a hindrance in a fight, and Reepicheep, who was a valiant warrior but hardly a bodyguard (since he'd be more focused on the fight and fairness than protection). I think - and I own this is interpretation and not canon either - Lewis meant this to be a story for children, and putting the rules binding earthly rulers to it is sensible, but not in keeping with Lewis's story. So in my stories the Four don't have guards that escort them everywhere. That is, I admit, my choice, not something I'd ever say another author should , the Four do often have companions, because most things in life are better with friends. The difference is mainly in the fact that no one is assigned to accompany them - people just fall in as their sovereigns have time, like our meeting up with friends.

**Peter has not, at this time, forbidden her to carry it commonly to the wars, or commonly around the Cair. Now that I think of it, the story of that conversation could be an interesting tale to write. Only my prompt list is far too long as it is.

***For those who haven't read _A Turtle's Tale_, he's a character introduced there, and is, if it isn't obvious, a Robin, the one who first led the Pevensies to Mr. Beaver

****Most of the dialogue is word-for-word or paraphrased from T_he Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_, and isn't mine.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I've become convinced over the course of this past week that I haven't the brain capability of a pigeon, and so I'm pretty sure I can't claim Narnia. Pretty sure. I'm right, aren't I?**

**A/N: beta'd by trustingHim17, who has my relieved thanks, since I wrote this after my bedtime and I really shouldn't be doing that, but she keeps you all from the worst of those effects. **

OOOOO

Lucy followed Felvren's quiet steps through the winding trees for perhaps half an hour. The ground began to dip and rise into small hills as Wolf steadily threaded through the trees, and thicker and thicker underbrush.

"Here," said the soft growl, and Lucy looked in puzzlement as the Wolf ducked under some of the thickest branches and disappeared. "You'll have to crawl, Daughter of Eve," the voice called quietly, and Lucy got on her hands and knees. Following through the hole she wouldn't otherwise have noticed, wincing as sticks dug into her palms, she crawled the short distance. The branches gave way to little rocks, then larger ones, and she saw a light ahead.

A lantern. Felvren was sitting by it, ears up, her large head watching the hole Lucy was climbing through. The lantern illuminated a cave - a small, close cave lit only by the flickering lantern light, but a warm place. There were nested blankets, red, green, and a pile of blue, in three separate places in the cave, nestled between rings of rocks. In the back of the shallow cave, beyond the blankets, was a wooden table lower than Lucy's knee. No chairs were around it. Of course, Lucy thought, Wolves wouldn't need chairs. She looked back to where Felvren was watching her. "It's warm and cozy," Lucy said. "Thank you for inviting me." Felvren's ears drooped a small amount, and she stood and walked towards the table.

"Thank you, Queen Lucy. Please come and sit. The Wolf dipped her head behind a rock and pulled a canvas bag up with her teeth. She set it on the table, tugging on the strap till it spilled open, spilling blue berries and red strawberries across the tabletop. The bag was full. "This is all I have to offer for lunch, but I hope it pleases you."

"That will be lovely! Here, let me share mine as well." Lucy set her own lunch basket on the table and opened it. Felvren sat right beside her, and Lucy's quick hands sorted the food into two places, adding berries to both their servings. They ate in silence, Lucy stealing quick looks at her hostess. She looked...sad, Lucy thought. No, not sad.

Like Peter when he had to go on a trip with none of them along. Or Edmund when they sometimes remembered their first Christmas presents here.

_Lonely_.

Lucy settled a little closer to the Wolf, almost touching her fur. "Do you like different colors?" she asked. She gestured at the three piles of blankets.

"No," Felvren said. Lucy waited, but her hostess didn't say anything more, and Lucy searched for a different subject. Maybe where she lived? She opened her mouth to ask more about what it was like living in the woods, but Felvren spoke before she could.

"Have you heard the legend of the first Narnian Wolves?" Lucy closed her mouth and shook her head; she could never hear too many Narnian stories. "We were born when Aslan sang, and were one of the first to break through the dirt, but one of the last to join the circle. We long for freedom as we long for life. The first two Wolves roamed far, following the song of the stars, looking for the mountain peaks and deepest valleys, searching for something we were missing, as precious as our freedom. We could not find it. But Aslan found us instead, and we asked him what we were searching for." Felvren paused, and moved closer to Lucy, till Lucy's shoulder and side were pressed against her. "He told us we searched for family. And the Wolves stopped searching all of Narnia and turned to look at the four cubs who followed them, and smiled. The strength of the Wolf is the family, and the family leans on the strength of the Wolf."* Lucy, listening, felt Felvren's voice vibrate in the furred body at her side, and leaned farther into it. The longest hairs were coarse, but underneath it was soft. The cave was warm. "And so the first two Wolves named their four, Fa, Mi, Lee, and the youngest, To. So was made the first Wolf pack. But each of the four second Wolves also yearned to know the heights of Narnia, to howl with the song of the stars, and so the pack traveled again. To, the youngest, was the mischief maker, and the stories of the messes he made as a guest traveled all the way back to King Frank and Queen Helen." Felvren's voice was growing softer, and Lucy felt tired. She closed her eyes. "The King and Queen invited the first Wolf pack to come and visit, during the winter when finding food was hard, though they had heard stories of To…" Lucy fell asleep.

She did not know how long she slept when she opened her eyes again with a start. "Oh!" she said, scrambling to her feet, her hair brushing against the top of the cave. "How late is it? I must be getting on! I wanted to reach the Mr. Tummnus's cave before dark tonight!" Felvren, who had been sitting silently beside her, looked up, black eyes dark in the flickering light of the lantern.

"You cannot reach that far into the Waste for several days yet," the Wolf said in a low even voice. "And I do not think you will be going there."

"What do you mean?" Lucy said, reaching for her basket. "But I was going to go exploring there! It's really so far away?" Felvren said nothing, and Lucy bit her lip. "There's something I remember there, a tall black...tree, with no branches. Only it's not wood. I - I wanted to see it again," she admitted. "I sometimes think I dreamed it. I wanted to see if it was real - I wanted to touch it again."

"It is real," Felvren said, still in that quiet, even voice. "I have seen it." She paused. "But I do not think you will be going there."

"No," Lucy sighed. "If it's that far away I must be getting back. My siblings will be worried enough as it is; I only meant to be gone an afternoon."

"You will be gone much longer than that," Felvren said. She got to her feet, all four paws, and came closer. Lucy looked at her glittering black eyes uneasily; she looked a little frightening, with her fur beginning to bristle and low growls to rumble in her stomach. "You are not leaving this cave today, Queen Lucy."

"But I must," Lucy said, backing up a step. She swallowed, finding her courage, and laid a hand on her dagger sheath, and clenched her fingers in surprise. The dagger was missing. "I need to get back to my family," she said firmly.

"We need them to miss you," Felvren said, voice still low. "I would not bother with your dagger, Daughter of Eve. I took it while you slept, and your feeble fingers cannot match my claws and teeth. Do not try to leave." The Wolf stared at her, eyes hard. "I leave the lantern here for you tonight, Queen Lucy, one of The Four, but you will not leave." The Wolf took one more step, growling, then sprang backward in a single leap, running for the tunnel. Lucy saw her for a brief moment, silhouetted in the entrance, front paws leaping up to lean against something - and then the Wolf disappeared in the tunnel, and behind her rocks crashed down, boulders, crushing the underbrush and the tunnel, and leaving Lucy trapped in the cave.

Lucy coughed, dragging her handkerchief out of her belt and over her mouth till the dust settled. Then she ran to the entrance. It wasn't fully blocked - she could see a tiny bit of light shining through cracks if she cleared away small pebbles - but most of the rocks that had fallen were large stones, too heavy for her to lift, and crushed too closely together for her to climb through. She pushed, and pushed, and pushed, her arms aching. She bruised her wrists, her shoulder, slamming them against the stones. The stones didn't budge. She sank to the floor, catching her breath and wishing Oreius was here. He would be strong enough to move the stones.

She also wished he was here because Felvren had truly frightened her. She'd seemed so nice - sort of - though Chester _had_ been scared - but then she blocked Lucy in, without a dagger. And Lucy wondered why. It had something to do with her siblings, she knew.

"Well," Lucy said out loud to herself, looking around. "I have plenty of berries." She stopped. Her own voice still sounded a little frightened; she waited till she was ready to try again. "And I _do_ have light. And there's blankets to sleep on. It - it's not bad." She wrapped her arms around herself.

It wasn't bad. But it wasn't _home_. It wasn't Cair Paravel, with Susan fussing, or dancing, or working peace. It wasn't brothers and Centaurs and Fauns and Leopards and singing Robins, and, oh, all the _nice_ people. She wanted to go home. She put her head on her arms.

_Peace, dear heart,_ whispered a Golden Voice, and Lucy looked up, her fear vanishing. There was the cave, but it was filled with light, and Lucy ran to its Source, throwing her arms in his Mane and burying her face in it. "Peace. I have brought you here for a reason."

"What for, Aslan?" Lucy lifted her head to look in His deep, fathomless eyes, the eyes that were home even more than Cair Paravel was, for it was _Him_.

"Felvren. You must help her, for you are her Queen too. I do not want you to try to get away. I want you to go with her. Listen to her, and speak with her. She is dealing with a darkness larger than you understand, and it is a darkness you must help to fight." Lucy buried her head in his mane again.

"Do I have to fight it in here?" she asked, muffled by His mane. He said nothing, and Lucy felt His silent reproach. "I'm sorry, Aslan. If I'm her Queen of course I have to fight for her. What should I do?"

"That I will show you in time, dear heart. And do not be afraid, for I will be with you."

"I won't, if You're with me," Lucy promised. She clung to Aslan's mane with her fingers. "Will you stay with me?" He shook His great head.

"I have other work to do, dear daughter. Now go and rest, for tomorrow your battle begins." Lucy sighed, but went over to one of the piles of blankets - the red one, and laid down, pulling one of the blankets on top of her. Aslan bent down and she felt His warm breath on her forehead. "Sleep," he said, and her eyes closed.

When she opened them it was morning, and outside of the cave she could hear claws digging away at the dirt.

OOOOO

*The idea for that sentence was taken from Rudyard Kipling's "The strength of the pack is the wolf, and the strength of the wolf is the pack."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: (Checks bank account:) Nope, I'm not a millionaire or even close, and I'm pretty sure whoever owns Narnia is.**

Lucy flinched away from the entrance. The claws were hitting stones, now, and rolling them away. Something else was digging too; short grunts answered by low growls. Lucy took a deep breath. Aslan was with her. She stood, facing the entrance, and waited.

And waited a bit more. A little more light was coming in.

She waited a bit more, getting impatient. She looked down at her dress and noticed the dirt stains and dust covering it. Well, here was something she could _do_ while she waited. She took out her handkerchief and dusted it off, then shook the grime off her red hooded cloak. If she was going to be a prisoner, she was going to be a presentable one, if she could help it, because Susan would approve.

Whoever it was shifted the rocks close enough now that she could see them move. The grunts made her shudder; low, harsh, and angry. The growls sounded like Felvren.

Four large, clumsy white fingers grabbed the rock on the top of the pile, ripping it up. A long, bumpy arm, several feet above her head, was visible through the hole. A bald head, pasty white, filled the hole, and its beady eyes stared at her.

"See her," grunted the voice. "Small. _Eat_ her."

"No," growled Felvren's irate voice. "She's not for eating. Just get her out." The head grunted again and withdrew, and the arm came back, pulling away more rocks. The arm was almost bigger than the head, Lucy thought. Her stomach twisted. Whatever that thing was, it was ugly.

The claws were working too. Lucy could see them now, catching on smaller stones near the bottom, pulling them away. She stood straighter, tucking her handkerchief back in her belt, checking to make sure her cordial was still there, and waited.

Most of the rocks were gone; the wall was below her waist now. "I can get out," she called to the two outside, wanting the waiting to be over. The scratching paused.

"Enough," Felvren said to the Ogre. "Let her get out." Lucy walked forward, hoisting her knee up on one of the rocks and beginning to climb over. Felvren was waiting outside, sitting, a wide white strap running around her stomach, dark eyes attentive to Lucy's every move. It's like she's a watchdog, Lucy told herself. One with a white bag attached, so maybe a messenger dog. But she won't hurt me if I behave. Her stare didn't creep Lucy out as much as the Ogre's, who was still watching her like a snake watches its dinner. She tried not to shudder as she climbed down the last rock and turned around.

"_Hungry_," growled the Ogre, and Lucy looked up and dodged to the side as his large white hand reached for her, falling over a tree root and rolling away, uselessly putting her hand to her waist for her dagger. But she didn't have the need; Felvren was faster.

"_MINE,_" Felvren snarled, jumping between the two. Lucy lay panting on the forest floor for a moment, and then pushed herself up. She needed to be ready to run. No, wait, Aslan said not to. She _wished_ she had her dagger. Felvren was still snarling. "You will not lay a hand on her, or I will rip it off. She is not to eat. She is not to club. She is not to pick up. She is _mine_. My prisoner." The Ogre backed down from the bristling Wolf, and started muttering about his hunger to the ground. Felvren ignored him and turned to the girl standing behind her. "We're going farther into the woods, Lucy, one of The Four," the Wolf said formally. "You will be taken to the gathering of Fell creatures and their Captain. There you will be held in ransom for land for the Fell to own. Do not try to escape and you will not be harmed. Do you understand?"

Lucy nodded, glancing from the Wolf to the Ogre. She trusted Felvren more than the Ogre, at least. And Aslan had told her to stay. Felvren—that name was too long, Lucy decided—stood and turned to leave, the white bag still affixed on her back. Lucy fell in obediently behind her; the Ogre came last, footsteps thudding into the forest floor and his wooden club dragging behind him. They walked in silence for a few minutes, winding around trees and listening to the breeze rustle the leaves. There weren't any birds singing, Lucy noticed.

Lucy remembered Aslan's instructions; she was supposed to be the Wolf's _Queen_. She had no idea how to do that, but she supposed she'd begin like she would begin with anyone.

"It's a nice morning for a walk, isn't it?" she tried. Ren—Lucy would call her Ren, she liked that better—Ren stuttered in her steps, one front paw nearly being set down sideways. "Almost as nice as yesterday was."

"You were _kidnapped_ yesterday," Ren said, twisting her head to look over her furry shoulder. "That does not make yesterday a nice day."

"I don't know," Lucy said, thinking out loud. "This is the second time I've been kidnapped. The first time someone kidnapped me, it was Mr. Tumnus. And he's my friend now, so I'm not really sorry." The Wolf looked at her like she was crazy.

"That is _not_ how kidnapping works," she growled, deep in her throat, but Lucy just smiled back at her.

"It is when Aslan arranges the kidnapping, at least _my_ kidnappings. But my brothers'—and sometimes Susan's—kidnappings don't work that way, so I suppose you're right. I'm just trying to make this one as nice as possible. Isn't it a nice walk?"

Ren, still looking backwards, walked into a tree. She turned forward, growled, and then thumped her head against it. "No, it is not a nice walk, it's a forced march," she said to the tree. She withdrew her head and went around the trunk.

Lucy followed, ducking under its branches. The Ogre went right through them, snapping them off with his sheer weight as he forged forward, and Lucy held back a wince. "But it's not a forced march if I'm doing it willingly," she said, trying to draw Ren out with an Edmund-like argument. "So can't it be a nice walk?"

"Talks much," said the grunting voice behind her. "Hungry. Eat food, stops talking." Lucy stiffened, sucking in a breath.

Felvren whirled with a growl. "For the last time, you're _not_ _eating her_. We need her. We're taking her to the camp, and you're not touching her. Or I will bite your leg off and eat it."

"Not leg," the Ogre said, backing up a step and reaching down to touch it. "Not leg."

"Then don't eat the Daughter of Eve," Felvren snarled back, turning around again. Lucy breathed out. She really didn't like that Ogre.

"Thanks, Ren," she said, as cheerfully as she could. "I don't really want to be eaten."

"And I don't want to eat an Ogre's leg, I'm sure it would taste awful," the Wolf muttered, low enough only Lucy could hear. "Wait—did you call me Ren?" The Wolf was looking over her own shoulder again, pupils wide in surprise.

"Yes," Lucy said. "I—I liked it. I hope you don't mind?"

Felvren twisted her head back to look straight ahead and said nothing.

Felvren would say nothing else through the rest of their morning march, winding around trees, seeming to know the whole forest so well she rarely needed to stop and smell to get a direction. The trees grew closer and closer together, and when they stopped at noon in a small clearing, Lucy was surprised by the light in it but dropped down willingly in the middle, opposite from the Ogre, who was running his hand over his muddy club. Felvren used her teeth to carefully untie the white strap around her stomach and dragged the bag over to Lucy, dropping it there. "Eat, Lucy of The Four," she said. "We've a long march left today."

"Thank you," Lucy said, smiling at her, and the Wolf flinched.

"I'm going to go scout," she called to the Ogre, moving to the trees. She paused just beneath them. "Don't. Touch. The Daughter of Eve," she said with a snarl. The Ogre moved a pace back and touched his leg.

"Not touch," he agreed with almost a whimper. "Not touch leg." Felvren disappeared.

Lucy ate—berries, a bit of cheese, and some nuts, all of it very good—and rested. She wasn't _too_ tired, but she knew she would be by nightfall. It's a good thing I'm not supposed to escape, she thought to herself. I think that would take far too much energy. As she put all the extra back in the bag and tied the strap, slinging it over her shoulder—she could carry it for Ren for a while—she wondered what her siblings were doing, and if they had missed her yet.

* * *

_The Day Before:_

"I say, Su, have you seen Lucy?" Susan looked up from the documents she had on her lap, blinking in the light her younger brother was letting in. She was in a closet, writing official royal responses by the light of a candle and avoiding the unpleasant suitors at the same time.

"I haven't seen her since we got up, no." She blinked again, bringing her brain back from the formal language and almost legal phrasing the missives required. "I shouldn't be seeing _you_, either. Aren't you supposed to be with Oreius?"

Edmund's grin grew brighter. "Peter and I had a competition to see who could get from the courtyard to the tallest tower fastest. _While_ fighting off guards. Oreius said whoever won could be done with today."

"And you won, I presume," Susan said, smiling back and collecting her papers.

"Peter doesn't know about the secret passage from the kitchens to the fourth hall yet. And I may have set a trap for him that made him yell, and brought all the guards down on his head," Edmund admitted. He didn't look at all sorry, Susan noted. "But I'd promised Lucy the next time we were both free we'd go try to find that cave the Mermaid told her about. Only I can't find her anywhere."

"And if you found me in a closet, I suppose you certainly could find Lucy," Susan said with a thoughtful frown. She took her brother's offered hand and let him pull her to her feet, her papers in her other hand.

"Well, our family does tend to find adventures in small spaces," Edmund said wryly. "But you haven't seen her?"

"Not anywhere," Susan responded. "And she didn't mention going to see anyone today."

Edmund shrugged. "I'll keep looking, then. I'll probably get the Talking Mice to help; they love going on quests."

"I'll come with," Susan said, raising her hand and summoning a Mole maid who'd been dusting farther down the hall. "Put these in my rooms, please," she requested, handing the papers over. "If you have the time," she added belatedly, seeing the duster in one hand. The Mole smiled a wide smile and accepted the papers with a cheerful curtsey, and the two siblings started searching their home, Susan avoiding the Calormenes at the same time.

Several hours later, both were becoming concerned. No one had seen Lucy. After a quick discussion, the two of them went down the training court, where Peter was currently fighting three Fauns at once while Oreius looked on, and Susan politely but firmly interrupted. Oreius, the Fauns, and Peter all joined in the search. They quickly discovered the stable hands had saddled Lucy's horse, and then that she'd gone out for a ride. Anxiety dissipating, the three agreed to give her a little lecture about safety ("Lucy won't like it, but it's for her own good,"), and went back to their own business. So the rest of the day passed.

Peter was far too tired for supper that night, and sent word he was eating in his room and then sleeping. For twelve hours, probably. Susan didn't want to be found, and readily agreed. Edmund never even got the message, having been caught up in a book on Centaur law he'd found. None of them realized that Lucy never made it home.

The servants and guards, accustomed to four Monarchs who tended to go on adventures as they pleased, and who therefore had a large ability to sneak about, assumed she'd snuck past them and was safely in bed.

The next morning Peter was the first to come to breakfast, sitting at the table set aside for the Four. He frowned. Lucy was usually the earliest morning person of the four. She usually came down earliest, too, to hear the birds sing just outside the window and exchange news with them; she was the reason their table was set by the window. But today she wasn't here. She might be avoiding the lecture she had to know was coming, he thought, but she was going to get it anyway; it was foolish to leave without letting anyone know where she was heading. But she also was brave, his Valiant little sister, and she'd be down shortly, and take the lecture with good grace.

Only she wasn't. Edmund showed up next, having been dragged out of bed by a helpful Dwarf who'd come to sharpen his sword. Edmund sat down without a word and stabbed at his food, glaring.

Susan was third, having been caught up in a dispute between a cook and a chambermaid about using flour to create paste for decorations. She sat down gracefully and looked around, frowning. "Lucy's not here?" Peter shook his head and Edmund seemed to wake up.

"That's not like her," Peter said. He raised his hand, and a Mouse scurried from the corner where he'd been practicing some sword strokes. "Good cousin, please send someone to fetch our youngest sister from her sleep, and tell her we request her presence." Susan smiled at him approvingly, and he smiled back as the Mouse bowed and ran out the door. But that didn't erase the unease he was feeling in his stomach.

Perhaps ten minutes later a cherry-tree Dryad arrived in the door, and the three looked up in surprise. Dryads didn't eat anything but dirt, and rarely graced the Great Hall during meals unless there was a feast.

The Dryad came right to their table, and bowed. Peter's stomach clenched, and Susan laid down her silver utensils. "Your Majesties, I went to your sister's chamber, but she was not there. The bed has not been disturbed, nor was it made this morning, according to the maids. I do not think your sister spent the night there."

Edmund went still, eyes wide, and Susan's hands clenched. Peter slowly stood. "Someone fetch Oreius," he ordered the room, and all conversation stopped. "We start a search." He looked back at his two siblings, their faces pale with fear. This wasn't like Lucy, and they knew it. "We will find her," he promised them.

Oreius was there within minutes, and at once called for the guard and sent Eagles to alert the outposts around Narnia. Edmund slipped away and came back with a map, setting it on the hastily cleared table. All the Narnians who worked and lived in Cair Paravel gathered—for Lucy was loved by every Narnian who had ever met her. They divided the map into portions, assigned groups, and dismissed them to search. Before an hour was out Peter, Susan, and Edmund were attired to ride and to fight, Susan's bow over her shoulder, and headed out to the stables to mount up.

"Your Majesties! Majesties! Majesties! King Peter! Queen Susan! King Edmund!" peeped a tiny voice behind them, and Robin was suddenly fluttering over their heads, hovering before them. He beat his wings to keep aloft till Susan held out her arm for him and he landed. "Your Majesties. I just heard the news, news, horrible news. Queen Lucy is missing! I saw her, saw her, saw her, yesterday morning. I rode with her, after she left, left, left." Peter and Edmund instantly crowded around Susan's arm.

"Where was she headed?" Peter demanded grimly.

"She wished to explore the Western Wood, and perhaps go to the Lantern Waste," Robin said.

"Peter," Edmund whispered, horror in his tone. "That—that's where Orieus said the Fell are gathering."

"I know," Peter said, voice sharp.

"She's headed right to them!"

"I _know_!" His voice cut through Edmund's horror, and his younger brother blinked at him. "I know, Ed," he said more gently. "We'll just have to find her first." He raised his voice. "Hi, Mr. Beaver!" Mr. Beaver had been visiting Cair Paravel and was about to head out to search the river. He was one of the last to leave. As soon as he heard Peter, he came running over. "Find Orieus and tell him Lucy was headed towards the Western Wood, and perhaps the Lantern Waste. Tell him to mass the army in that direction." Mr. Beaver bowed, and Peter turned back towards the small bird hopping on his sister's leather-clad arm. "Robin, can you show us where she went?"

"At once, at once, at once, my King," Robin said, bowing. He fluttered towards the courts, but Peter pulled Susan and Edmund's arms towards the stables when they went to follow.

"Horseback," he said shortly. "We may need the speed." They agreed, mounting hastily.

Robin flew ahead of them, hopping from one tree to another, looking back to make sure they were following. "Just like our first time," Edmund muttered.

"Only Lucy was with us then," Susan said softly. She truly hoped her sister was all right.

"Aslan willing, she will be again." Peter's eyes were fixed on Robin. "We are going to find her."


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: 'Tis with great regret and sorrow that I write the words, "not mine."  
****Now, where were we? Oh, that's right. **_**The Pit of Despair.**_

OOOOO

They didn't find Lucy. They found her horse.

Robin led them to the place he'd seen Lucy last, and her siblings followed the path from there. One hour, two, three, and then they caught sight of something in the path ahead, large and brown; something familiar. Peter's black horse broke into a canter, Edmund and Susan's speeding up a moment later.

Chester, standing placidly in the path, flicked his tail as they cantered towards him. Peter pulled his horse up short and swung down. "I'll check for tracks," he said shortly. Susan edged her horse closer to Chester, checking Lucy's saddle.

"Peter," she called. "There's the bag Lucy uses to bring her lunch basket - but the basket's not here."

"She stopped for lunch?" Edmund's tone was incredulous. "In a dark forest?" He looked around. "Any tracks, Peter? Please, tell me there's tracks."

"None I can read." He turned back to his horse. "We need the Dogs."

"You want to wait for them?" Edmund scowled. "The Fell groups could have found her already!"

"Then do you have an idea for what we should do instead? Because I don't, Ed!"

"All right!" Susan cut through their arguing. "There's no good to be done arguing about this. Lucy stopped for lunch. Where would she eat it?"

There was a short silence.

"By her horse," Peter said slowly. "Unless...well, it's Lucy. What if she met someone?"

"And went to lunch with them?" Edmund shook his head. "All right, then, where?" He paused as they all looked around. "Sorry, Peter," he added more quietly.

"No harm done, Ed," Peter said easily, though his eyes were still tight with worry.

"We've no idea who it was, or where they went. Or how many there were." Edmund slumped forward.

"We call for the Dogs," Peter said firmly. "They can help with all those questions." He turned to Robin. "You're the fastest of all of us, cousin. Lend us your wings; go back and summon them here." Robin whistled in acknowledgement and flew off.

Susan dismounted, tying her horse, Snow, by Chester and stroking Chester's nose before working her way around him, examining the saddle and its accoutrements.

"Her cordial and dagger aren't here, she must have taken them with her," Susan called. She opened another bag. "There's no change of clothing, either; this was meant to be a day's journey."

"Of course it was," Edmund said quietly. "She would have told us otherwise." His horse snorted, and he sighed. "If we're waiting, we might as well eat too," he said, swinging of his horse and leading it to join the other two. "Does anyone have food?"

Susan had some, and she shared it out equally among the three, quiet strength in her graceful, giving movements. Edmund, who had released much of his impatience after he realized it was only doing harm, ate with a quiet resignation.

Peter, grim-faced, deliberate in all his movements, was quiet in a way that was anything but peaceful.

He had made his siblings a promise, and he intended to keep it.

Now they just waited for the Dogs.

* * *

Lucy woke up, blinking. She felt something gently nudge her leg again.

"Up, Lucy of The Four. We move on." Ren's voice was harsh, an impatient growl, but the head nudging Lucy was as gentle as Susan's touch. Lucy sat up; she'd fallen asleep after eating lunch.

"You eat little talk-much monster?" the Ogre asked, confusion wrinkling his ugly white face. "Eat leg?"

"I'm not a monster!" Lucy said, glaring up at him. "And I don't talk too much either."

"Shut up, you're not helping," Felvren sighed. She turned to the Ogre. "No, I'm not eating her leg. I'm waking her up."

"Sleep, no talking," the Ogre mumbled.

"Sleep, no _walking_," the Wolf retorted. "That's why I'm not eating her leg either. We need to move."

Lucy frowned. The Wolf's pitch was low, a growl always hinted in the back of the words. When the Cair Paravel guards were that way, they were always nervous. "Ren? What's wrong?" Ren whipped her head around to Lucy. "Did you find something while you were out scouting?"

"Nothing to concern you, Queen Lucy," she replied stiffly. Her fur began to bristle.

"But it's my kidnapping. It probably concerns me."

"And I'm the kidnapper, so I get to say if it concerns you or not."

"But you're a kidnapper, so you're probably wrong, because you shouldn't be kidnapping Daughters of Eve to begin with." Ren growled, Wolf fangs grinding. "Tell me! Please?"

"You're worse than a cub!" Ren snapped. "All right, all right! There're soldiers out in the woods, large groups of them. They're hours and hours behind, though, so don't count on a rescue. The Crows brought word."

"Oh." Lucy thought for a second. Aslan _had_ told her not to leave. "Well, we'd better get going then," and she got to her feet, settling the bag on her back. "If Peter, Susan, or Edmund catch up they'll never let us go."

Ren stared at her.

The Ogre shuffled, feet thumping in the clearing, and Ren shook herself.

"You do realize you shouldn't be _helping_ your kidnappers, right?" she asked, fur lying flat as she stared at the twelve-year-old in puzzlement.

"Aslan told me to," Lucy said cheerfully. "Which way are we going?"

Felvren, who had been starting to stalk across the clearing, whipped herself around again. "_Aslan_—He—the Lion told you to _what_?"

"To go with you," Lucy answered. She waited, but Ren still stared at her. "I don't understand it either," she added cheerfully.

"He couldn't have," the Wolf answered. Lucy frowned at her voice; so quiet, so full of pain. So _certain_.

"Why not?" she asked.

Ren turned back around, slowly, as if her pain was a physical burden weighing down her limbs. "I can't belong to Him."

* * *

The lunch was meager, once split among three. They knew they had hours to wait—for Robin to fly back, for the Dogs to catch up—and Peter and Edmund started scouting their immediate surroundings.

They found nothing.

A group of soldiers caught up before the Dogs came, and with them was both a Wolf and a Panther. Peter immediately stopped the soldiers on the path and asked the two to come forward.

The Wolf had the best nose, and growled softly.

"Queen Lucy was here, and with her another Wolf; female, I think, your Majesty. I can smell left over food that way, I think—human food. They must have gone that way."

"Then so do we," Peter said grimly, starting for his horse.

The Wolf led, the Kings and Queen followed, and the soldiers fell in third, two staying behind to direct coming Narnians.

The remaining soldiers marked the path as they went.

**A/N: My apologies for the short chapter. We've had 20 – 30 people over for the day or spending the night at various times throughout the past eight days, and so much people left me with very little words. I'll try to make the next chapter longer.**

Response to Anonymousme: I'm glad my professor's words gave you something to think about; they certainly did the same for me! The seven Lords stopped at the Dufflepud island too-the Magician remembered seeing them, so it's likely they stopped at every island. However, I saw exiles (based on my experiences with refugees), for the main part, sticking together. There's usually a few who want to embrace their new lives, or who are determined to do so (not quite the same thing), but most will settle together, if they can, and hold on to the familiarity of the language and people who know their old world. Hopefully that makes sense! And I absolutely forgive you-I'm sorry if it came across harsh, I just thought letting you know what might be offensive might be good for the future. I'm so glad you liked the seals. TrustingHim17 came up with a great deal of them. Thank you for catching the wrong "flower/flour" in the last chapter, by the way-I did correct it! I'll admit this story is meant to be hinting at "Little Red Riding Hood," at least the beginning, with Lucy's red cloak, the lunch basket, and meeting a wolf in the wood, but apparently it wasn't obvious enough because no one commented on it. :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Oh, look, I'm back again. Repeated trips to Narnia must mean it's mine now.  
****Wait, that isn't how ownership works?**

**A/N: There is a fight in this chapter, and I don't tend to make them graphic, but it's a fight, and I've seen authors post warnings when that happens. Please be aware there's one in this chapter.**

**Beta'd by trustingHim17; in fact, all my writing is, and I realised I don't always put this when I should, but just be aware the error-free nature of the writing is entirely a gift from her!**

OOOOO

Lucy, following, tried to argue the Wolf's declaration, but Ren wouldn't respond. They fell in once again, the Wolf, the girl, and then the Ogre, marching, marching, and marching still more. The Ogre grew grumpier and hungrier the longer they marched, but kept well away from both the Wolf and the girl. The sun fell lower and lower in the sky. It hid behind the tall trees, then the distant mountains, and then finally went down all together. Ren stopped marching just before the last light left the sky.

"We stop here," she said shortly. Lucy untied the bag's strings from around her chest, letting it drop from her back; when she looked up, Ren had vanished.

"She moves quietly," Lucy said to herself. She was trying not to upset the Ogre, who had seemed happier the less the Queen had spoken. So instead she looked around for a place to sleep, clutching her cloak a bit tighter against the chill.

There was a patch of clearer ground underneath a tree; when she ran her hands over it, it didn't seem to have any stones or protruding roots. She set the bag down for a pillow, the strap folded underneath it, and laid down.

Only to feel something hard and metal under her head. She frowned—she _really _just wanted to sleep—but that was not comfortable. She felt it with her hand. Something long, with a pointed end; she felt up higher, and felt a metal bar horizontal to the rest—wait, this must be her dagger! She sat up, looking around—Ren was nowhere in sight, and the Ogre had curled into a ball across the clearing, cuddling its club to itself and crooning to it. She hadn't been expecting _that_.

She took a breath in, and quietly, slowly, opened the top of the bag. She felt inside it; just berries, and some leftover cheese. She put a few in her mouth, but still felt around. There, faint through the lining, she could feel the dagger again. Not on the inside, then. She felt on the outside of the bag, carefully, running her fingers over it in the darkness. There! A cleverly hidden fold, just beneath a seam; she pulled it open, reached inside, and withdrew her dagger. She hastily shoved it inside its sheath, inside her cloak, and put the bag back down again, laying down and pretending to be asleep. But she was glad to have her dagger. It made her feel much safer.

Little by little, as the forest became very dark and the stars were shut out by the trees, her excitement faded. When it left, she started to shiver; it was _cold_. She wrapped her arms around herself, inside her cloak, and drew her knees up. This must be why the Ogre slept curled up. But each part of her that wasn't pressing another—her legs, her nose—was so cold it was almost numb.

Soft, padding footsteps came closer and stopped right next to Lucy. She didn't open her eyes; if she moved some of the heat might go away. A sigh, and warm breath washed over her feet. The footsteps padded away.

They were back again shortly, and Lucy jumped as a soft, strong-smelling item was dropped on top of her. A branch, with the green pine needles that were still soft; another branch dropped, and another, and another, covering her feet first, then her legs, then all of her but her face. Always accompanied by the padding footsteps.

"Thank you," Lucy whispered when she was warm. The footsteps paused, and then there was a soft thump of a furred body hitting the ground. "I'm warm now."

Ren was silent for a moment. "It should be so easy to hate you," came the soft growl after a while, and Lucy's eyes opened all the way.

"Why?"

The sigh again, and Lucy remembered how warm it was. "You're Aslan's. Look at you: a Daughter of Eve, His _Queen_, one of The Four who ended the White Queen's reign. So fully His you're not even afraid of me."

"He can be a lot scarier than you can," Lucy offered apologetically. "I've seen Him." She waited. Ren hadn't wanted to answer this earlier, but- "Why can't you be His too?"

"You know nothing of Wolf Packs," Ren snarled—softly, not to wake the Ogre, but harshly. "I am bound to my pack. My pack—not the Wolvreth Pack, the name I told you on the path, that mix of bad and good. My name - it's a different pack. We used to be the most feared, the most powerful; the White Queen herself took her officers from our Pack. We howled when they went, lamenting as we let them go, but no one dared sneer at us. We were _hers_."

"But you're not hers now," Lucy said, her heart speeding up. "You don't have to be. You can leave the pack. Come back with me," she coaxed; if Ren came with her, she wouldn't be leaving the Wolf behind; she'd still be obeying Aslan, _and_ going home. "We'll be your pack—your family. Everyone at Cair Paravel. We'll be your pack, and you'll be Aslan's then."

A bitter laugh in the dark; Lucy heard Ren shifting, her claws scratching at the dirt. "One chance," the Wolf choked, "one chance for everything I've ever dreamed, and I can't take it. Forget this, Daughter of Eve. I cannot turn my back on the pack anymore than you can on your siblings. You couldn't do that, could you?" Lucy thought about that, about turning away from Susan, Peter, or Edmund.

"If it was a choice between them and Aslan," she said slowly, for she wanted to be truthful, "I think I would have to. If they—if they decided they didn't want to be His anymore—I would have to follow Him anyway. I'd still love them, of course, but-" she bit her lip. That was more painful than she wanted to think of.

"But you'd follow Him." Ren's voice was heavy. "Is He really worth that?"

"Yes," Lucy replied simply. Ren didn't respond.

"Won't you be His?" Lucy asked, so softly.

"I cannot, Queen Lucy." Ren's voice ached with regret, but it was firm. "I cannot go back, having made this choice. Not with what is at stake where we're going. I made the choice where we met—I was ready to let you go, to turn you around and send you back. I wasn't ready to be a villain. But you insisted on going forward, and you made the choice for both of us. They would have found you, sooner or later. I was sooner. But I swear, I won't hurt you unless I must. If I must, I will. You need to know that, Daughter of Eve."

"Why?" she asked curiously. She could tell Ren didn't _want_ to hurt her, and she wondered why the Wolf would.

"Because my allegiance lies with what is two days journey from here. And I put that allegiance before all else."

"That might be why Aslan told me to go with you," Lucy said, yawning a bit. She still wasn't frightened. "So I didn't get hurt." Her eyes fluttered closed. "No, wait—He said I was supposed to be your Queen, too." She fell asleep.

Next to her the Wolf sighed. This queen - what was she to do with her? This generous, fragile queen. Queen Lucy was warmer—the branches had seen to that. But the chill was just beginning, and the branches might not be enough. Silently the Wolf rose, and laid back down next to the Queen, offering what warmth she had. She set her head down on her paws and looked into the blackness, seeing things Queen Lucy could never have guessed at. Seeing the reasons she was doing this, even as she hesitantly prayed for Aslan to protect the Queen at her side.

Felvren didn't sleep much that night.

* * *

The true Narnians made it to the cave by late afternoon, long before Ren and Lucy stopped for the night. The Wolf led them steadily onward, closer and closer to the hill, and stopped at last before a tumble of rocks with a small opening in the side.

"Lucy!" Susan cried, seeing the newly crushed foliage under the rocks. "Lucy, are you in there?" Peter and Edmund were there first, climbing over the rocks while holding their sheaths out of the way as the Wolf bounded up beside them.

"No one inside," the Wolf reported, panting as he climbed.

"No, let me inside, you're too big—don't argue, Peter, just do it!" Peter nodded once, grabbing Edmund's arm to steady him as his brother slipped inside. Susan and the Wolf were at his side a moment later.

"There's a lantern in here!" Edmund called, and they heard his boots scraping over rocks. "And blankets—piles of them—and here's table—wait, that's-" His voice cut off.

"Edmund!" Peter shouted, Susan echoing him a split second later, and behind them the soldiers moved closer.

"I'm all right," Edmund called back. "Just—there's not much here, give me a second." They heard his footsteps again, the clink of metal being set down, and a few moments later they heard him climbing. Closer, closer, then his head was sticking out of the opening, and Peter and Susan both grabbed an arm and pulled him over. Susan let go of her arm almost at once; hanging from it was a small, familiar basket.

"Lucy's lunch basket," Edmund said, sliding it off his arm and handing it to his sister. She ran her fingers over it, feeling the weave, and Edmund looked to Peter. "It was at the back-clear of the cave in. She was here."

"_Was_." Peter looked around; where was Lucy now? Where had she gone - was she hurt in the cave-in?

"There's no blood inside," Edmund said quickly, responding to Peter and Susan's pallor.

"And I smell no blood, your Majesties," the Wolf added. "I do not think the Queen was hurt."

"But where is she now?" Susan asked desperately.

"Your Majesties," said a soldier sharply, pointing to the side.

Pointing, particularly, at a tree with broken branches. There, down by the base - the branches littered the ground, as if they'd been snapped off by something large and strong.

"Giants?" Susan asked fearfully.

"Not tall enough," Peter said, calculating. "But - something large. Larger than a Centaur." He hopped down and held his hand out to his sister. "Come on. They've left us a clear path to follow."

"Whoever _they_ are," Edmund muttered, but Peter silenced him with a sharp look. Both of them - and the Captain, too, most likely - were running through the list of Fell creatures seen in the area. As the Kings mounted, the Captain, a Centaur friend of Orieus', slipped closer to them.

"Majesties, on our way here, a Crow flew overhead, and refused to answer our shouts," the Captain said, softly enough Susan couldn't hear.

Or so he thought. "A Crow?" she asked sharply, and he turned slowly and nodded.

"They have been known to be _her_ spies, in the Winter," he said. "If it was one of those, then they will know we are coming."

"And there's no telling what they'll do to Lucy," Peter finished. He looked at the trail. "Ride."

* * *

Lucy woke up to the sound of thumping. She frowned, wanting to burrow further into her bed - but the bed was hard. She smelled pine, and there was something hard pressing on her side-

_Thump_. Another sound; a slow dragging. _Thump_.

She'd heard it all afternoon. Lucy's eyes flew dark, but a little light from the moon - and the long, slow steps of the Ogre.

Coming closer.

Lucy quietly put her hand to her waist, to the metal digging into her side. Slowly, without making a sound, she turned a little more to her back, freeing the dagger and letting her draw it.

_Thump_.

Ren was at her side; Lucy reached over to wake her, but paused. If - if the Ogre was only sleepwalking - would Ren be angry?

_Thump_.

Lucy decided she didn't care; she'd take an angry Ren over a hungry Ogre any day. She shook the Wolf.

Ren snarled, instantly on her feet, turning her head and snapping at Lucy. Lucy gasped in pain as the sharp teeth grazed her arm, and warmth spilled down it.

_Thump_.

Ren turned, snapping at this new sound, and seemed to wake up-just in time for the Ogre's club to sweep forward. It hit her side, low on her belly, flinging her into a tree. She whimpered as she hit it and fell.

Lucy was on her feet, her right hand clutched to her stomach, her left clenching around the dagger. She looked up, up, and up at the Ogre, ugly, white, and roaring in the faint light.

"HUNGRY!" he bellowed, swinging his club forward again, and Lucy ducked. She rolled forward, remembering some of her lessons - she wished she had her bow - and rolled more, in-between his legs, stabbing out with her dagger as she moved.

She caught his foot, nearly losing her grip. She clutched tighter, rolling forward still, panting. A tree! She lurched to the side, then scrambled to her feet, ready to run. No, wait, stay with Ren! The Ogre-

He was roaring in pain now, a cut on on the side of his foot, and turning. That massive club swung, hitting a tree, cracking it; she ran. To the side, further from Ren, then turned and ran _towards _him, holding up her dagger. She sliced, this time at his side, but missed when his hand swatted at her. She ran away, turned, ran forward again - dagger out - _swipe_ \- a small cut on his side - _run!_

She wasn't doing much. Aslan, what should she do? She couldn't - he was so _big!_

His hand! She _wouldn't_ be eaten!

A growl; sharp and fierce; a dark blur leaped at his neck. It landed on his back and _bit_, crunching and holding; and the Ogre yelped once, and fell backwards, Ren leaping away from his back as he fell.

He lay still. Ren stood growling over him, then lifted her head to look towards Lucy.

"You're bleeding," she said sharply, ignoring the body at her feet. Lucy looked down at her arm; it was beginning to hurt. "Let me see," the Wolf ordered, trotting over, and Lucy held out her arm. The Wolf sniffed it cautiously. "It doesn't appear to be deep, but it's bleeding." She ran her tongue over the scratch, trying to clear away the blood, and Lucy winced. "I've nothing to bind it with, Queen Lucy," Ren said, voice soft with regret.

"I'll use my cloak," Lucy said, beginning to shiver again. She looked at the Ogre. "Is he - is he dead?"

"Yes," the Wolf snarled. "He won't be coming back. He won't hurt you again."

"He didn't," Lucy said, confused. Ren's ears came up. Lucy blushed in the dark, realising that Ren didn't know she'd caused Lucy's wound, and hurried back to her cloak.

She wrapped the cloak around her arm, then wiped her dagger on the grass (Peter had been very firm about that lesson). Ren followed her. "That cut was not made with a club," she said distantly. Lucy didn't answer. "And I do not think he got you close to his teeth, or you would not still be here. He didn't hurt your arm, did he?"

Lucy wished she could give another answer, but- "No," she admitted quietly. "But I don't think you were fully awake, so it's ok," she added hastily.

"I got you hurt," Ren said in that same distant tone.

"Well," Lucy said slowly. "You're already kidnapping me, and I forgave you for that. I forgive you for this too. You really didn't know what you were doing, you know."

Ren looked at her - directly at her, for the first time since they'd woken. "You forgive things far too easily, Queen Lucy."

"It's a habit," Lucy said cheerfully. She looked past the Wolf, though, and back to the ugly, massive, white body lying in the clearing. She'd seen wars before. She'd checked bodies to see if she could heal them, after a battle, but she still didn't like it. Ever. "Ren - can we sleep somewhere else? Please? I - I don't want to sleep here." Ren turned and looked at body, and snarled again. More softly though.

"Let's go, Queen Lucy." The Wolf stood, and Lucy leaned against her, enjoying the warmth for a moment. Ren stumbled as soon as she felt the weight.

"Ren! Are you all right?" Ren was panting, her tongue hanging out from between her teeth as she breathed through the pain.

"My bones are bruised, I think, but I can walk, your Majesty."

"Here," Lucy said, reaching to her belt for her cordial. Ren went completely still.

"You cannot let me use that, your Majesty."

"You need it," Lucy told her.

"It's for true Narnians, Lucy of The Four," Ren said flatly, and turned away from Lucy's reaching hands. "Stop acting like my Queen. You're here because I forced you to be, cut your arm, and almost got you eaten."

"I'm here because _Aslan told me to be_," Lucy argued. "Otherwise I would have run away when the Ogre hit you. Now stop arguing!"

"No."

"_Yes_," Lucy said. "Why won't you let me help you?"

Ren was silent. Lucy took in a breath - tasting the scent of pine and the ugly scent of blood - and tried again, more quietly. "Why won't you let me help you?"

"Because you don't know whom you're helping," Ren answered at last.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I'm pretty sure I could just put the word "disclaimer" and everyone would know what I meant by now.  
**"**It was a dark and [adrenaline-filled] night…"**

OOOOO

The Wolf turned away. "That might be why Aslan sent you," she said bleakly. "So that you find out who I am and turn away. Let's go."

"I won't," Lucy promised. "I promise to do everything I can to help you. Please, _tell_ _me_," she pleaded.

Ren turned back to her, and Lucy held her breath. The Wolf's eyes were almost invisible in the dark, but something about the way she stood—the stillness of her body, the way her focus was on Lucy and nothing else—told Lucy that Ren was considering it.

Then the Wolf's body sagged. "I won't," she said resolutely, her tone at odds with her body. "Nor will I take your cordial. If Aslan bids you come, I know you won't run. We head that way." She turned again and led the way, still stumbling.

Lucy followed, trying to think of an argument, something to persuade Ren to explain who she was. Edmund would know what to say, or Susan, and Peter could probably command Ren and the Wolf would obey—Peter was like that. But Lucy didn't know what gifts she had that would make Ren trust her. Well, and obey her. Lucy sighed.

Ren immediately stopped. "You are well, Que—Lucy of The Four?"

"I'm fine." Lucy yawned; then her mind caught up to the Wolf's stumble of speech. "And please call me Lucy," she requested impulsively. "That's much too long for me. Just Lucy, please?"

Ren nodded her head stiffly. "We are out of sight—and scent—of Mantigor now. The Ogre," she added, at Lucy's look of confusion. "Perhaps we should rest for the night." Lucy nodded, looking around for the most comfortable place to sleep, and Ren sighed. "Come here, Lucy o—Lucy." The Wolf carefully lowered herself to the ground, one side braced gently against a tree, but the other open. "It is the only way you will stay warm tonight," she added as Lucy hesitated. "I will not harm you again," she said more quietly. "You have my word."

"But what about _your_ bruises?" Lucy took one slow step towards her. "If I sleep there, won't it hurt?" Ren blinked, then shook her head—and quickly stopped.

"I will be fine—Lucy." Lucy, taking her at her word, walked forward swiftly and laid down with her back against the Wolf. "You really should be less concerned about your kidnappers and more about yourself," Ren reproached softly, after Lucy settled.

"Aslan said I was your Queen," Lucy said back, just as softly. "That means I need to take care of you."

Ren's side heaved up and down with a sigh, but Lucy didn't take it back. Aslan made them Kings and Queens to take care of Narnians, and He'd said that included Ren. Lucy closed her eyes, trying to sleep.

"How is your arm?"

Lucy opened her eyes again instinctively, glancing down at the cloak-wrapped cut. "I think it's stopped bleeding," she reported.

A pause. "Perhaps you should use the cordial. I have heard such cuts can grow red and painful, and weaken you. Or so it happens on Centaur and Faun skin."

"Ours too," Lucy agreed. "But it's just a small cut. I'm saving the cordial for really important things." There was silence, and Lucy's sleepy mind realized Ren might be thinking about Lucy wanting Ren to use it. "You are important, you know," she said sleepily. "Aslan Himself came to talk about you."

"I grow…a little tired of disagreeing with you, out loud at least. But you must be wrong, little one."

"I'm not that little," Lucy argued confusedly.

Ren huffed a laugh. "And I'm not actually that old. I merely had to grow up quickly, and so you seem very young—and very innocent, to someone like me."

Lucy frowned. "Still a Queen," she protested, though her words were slurring. "But _you_ can call me Lucy. Or something else, if you want."

As Lucy drifted off to sleep, she thought she heard Ren whisper, "Goodnight, cub."

* * *

The three siblings and their soldiers rode hard, following the trail of broken branches, and sometimes the deep indent of a club dragged through mud. The first time they saw the deep ragged mark, Susan bit her lip, and the boys clutched the hilts of their swords. It was _wrong_ that something like that would be near Lucy, wielded by someone who'd want to hurt her.

But not for long, Peter vowed. They were getting closer. The Wolf—Ferela*—smelled lingering scents on the broken branches, and once another Wolf's scent.

But at one point they lost the trail; the forest thinned enough there were no broken branches.

"What now?" Susan asked quietly, turning to face her brothers. All the Narnians gathered close.

Peter paused, thinking. "We split up," he said reluctantly. "Each of us with a messenger—you take Salyte the Panther, Su, and you take Robin, Ed. Ferela will come with me. Captain, with my sister. Divide your soldiers up. The first of us to find the trail, send for the others—and _wait_ _for us._ I mean it, Ed. _Wait for us,_" he repeated, glaring at his impatient brother. "I don't care how close you might be, it won't do any good if they get another one of us. And everyone, keep your eyes and ears—all your senses open. There may be groups of Fell Creatures in these woods. We don't know how close they are."

"We'll take the hills, it's the best vantage point for archers anyway," Susan offered.

"I'll take the forest on our left," Edmund proposed. He gathered his reins, but stopped when his brother put a hand on his arm. "I'll wait for you. I promise, Peter. Unless they're hurting her," he amended, and Peter nodded, satisfied.

"I'll take the forest to the right." He gathered his own reins and glanced around. "In the name of Aslan, forward!"

Finding the trail again took hours; because it wasn't to the right, the left, or up the hills; it had been straight ahead, which they hadn't thought of, because that had been to the right of where they _had_ been going. But Salyte had jumped from tree-branch to tree-branch on the hills, and from that height had finally found another mark of the Ogre's club. Susan had sent her swiftly for the others; she found first the pack of Dogs, who had been following the scent of the Narnians and were nosily arguing at the place where the party had broken up. With their help the other two groups were quickly tracked and they regrouped.

But the sun had fallen behind the hills Susan had been on, and the party looked to Peter again.

"If part of the group takes off with Her Majesty, we won't know it till it's too late," the Captain put in quietly. The Dogs had scented a faint hint of Wolf, a faint scent of human, but any other scents were buried in the stench the Ogre exuded, according to the Dogs. And it was that scent they smelled clearly enough to track.

"We rest for the night," Peter commanded reluctantly. He swung down and held a tired arm out to his sister, who dismounted gracefully but leaned on it wearily. The tents—taken from soldiers' saddlebags or packs—were soon set up, a guard rotation put in place, and a small fire, hidden by the lines of tents, kindled to cook on.

No one said much during that supper. To the three of Lucy's siblings, the stew with its potatoes, carrots, and beans felt thick enough to choke them. They wondered what their sister had eaten for supper—or, in Edmund's case, he tried not to wonder if his sister had _been_ supper. "Aslan, protect her," he whispered. Susan looked up sharply, though Edmund didn't notice. She watched him, and her face softened.

"I think it's time you were in bed,"** she said, trying for a light tone.

He smiled back, but she winced. It wasn't a real smile. And, more tellingly, he didn't respond with his customary, "Go to bed yourself, _Mother_."

"It's time we were all in bed," Peter interjected, standing. "I'm on first watch with the others."

"Begging your pardon, Your Majesty, but you're not," the Captain said from the edge of the fire. "If I may be so bold: you've enough on your mind without adding a lack of sleep. We will need you to make clear, wise decisions in the coming days. Allow us to give you all the help we may in the meantime," he added quietly, before Peter could object. Peter paused, and Edmund spoke up.

"He's right, Peter." Edmund stood himself. "I can take your watch."

"If I'm sleeping, so are you," Peter said, though a half-smile lit his face. "You're younger than I am, and worried. All right, Captain, we'll go to bed. And Captain," he called, as the Centaur bowed and began to turn away. Peter waited till the Centaur was facing him again, and added a simple, "Thank you." The Captain bowed once again, and clopped away.

"All right," Peter said, and both boys reached a hand to pull Susan to her feet. "Our tent's this way." The three divested themselves of their swords, bow, and quiver at the door, though all three kept their daggers, and Susan put her horn within easy reach. They burrowed under their covers, wishing they knew if their sister was warm, trying to put that thought from their minds and take comfort in hearing the other two breathe.

It took an endless amount of minutes, for the three who had nothing else to think of and no little sister to remind them of Aslan's care, but the wearying day told at last, and the three Rulers fell into a restless sleep.

* * *

"How old are you?" Lucy asked, voice muffled as she picked her way through the steadily thicker brush. The two had left the tamer woods mid-morning, and now the Wolf slunk—with a limp, Lucy was distressed to see—through the underbrush, but the taller Lucy often ducked under branches or put them aside. Between Ren's limp, the throbbing of her arm, and the slightly empty stomach (berries only fill you up _so much_, after all), she wanted something to distract herself.

"What was that?" Ren hadn't called her "cub" again, but had, at least, started calling her "Lucy."

"How old are you?" Lucy repeated, more clearly this time. "You said you weren't that old last night. How old is old for a Wolf? How old are you?"

Ren snorted, a funny sound in a Wolf's noise. "I am five winters old; and, for a Wolf, that is a little older than your oldest brother."***

"But you grew up quickly," Lucy remembered. "So did we, you know. There was—another war. Where we came from, I think." She remembered confused impressions of sound, hunger, and fear, and wanting not to bother someone she loved very much by crying. It must have been Peter or Susan, she thought. Her crying wouldn't have bothered Edmund then. But—neither of those seemed right.

"I did not know that," Ren replied. "It…explains much about you." She paused. "My first winter was the long winter. The Witch's winter; I grew up a child in that winter, and learned to be as cold and hard as the winter itself. I had to, since he—it was a hard childhood. And then Spring came, and I thought things would be better. But they weren't," and her voice held the high, heart-breaking sound of a lonely wolf's howl. "They got harder. I gave up all hope of childhood, for myself and others." She paused, looking over her shoulder at Lucy. "Yet you are a child all the same. Somehow, you, a Queen, one of the enemies of the Witch—somehow you are still a child. I wish—I wish you weren't."

"Why?" Lucy asked. She'd thought Ren had liked her for it.

"Because it is very hard for me to kidnap a child," and Ren's voice was as weary as Susan's after a ball.

"I'm sorry," Lucy said quietly. Ren shook her head.

"You're sorry _my_ kidnapping _you_ is difficult for _me_." She sighed and fell back to walk beside Lucy as the brush grew sparser and the ground sloped up. "Daughter of Eve, you _must_ learn how to treat kidnappers."

"Why?" asked Lucy again. Ren kept harping on that; there _must_ be a reason.

Ren sighed. "Because a day and a half's walk away are the people I'm giving you to. Remember," and Ren stopped, putting a paw in front of Lucy to stop the Queen and make her look at the Wolf. "Remember Aslan did not say you were to stay with them. They are more like Mantigor than me, Lucy of The Four, and they will treat you as he did." Lucy nodded, her hand instinctively going to her dagger, and Ren's eyes followed her hand. "Keep your dagger, Daughter of Eve. You will have need of it." Lucy nodded again, her fingers stroking the metal hilt at her waist.

"Aslan will be with me there, too," she said firmly, and Ren paused.

"I think that's where He will be needed most," the Wolf said gravely.

"Then we should get going," Lucy said cheerfully.

"_Towards_ the people who are kidnapping you," the Wolf muttered, but started walking again. "Keep up, Lucy," she said more loudly, and Lucy followed her friend once again.

OOOOO

*Ferela was briefly introduced in _A Turtle's Tale_. I'm trying to reuse characters…and I really need to make a character list for myself. Sometime. Some_time,_ and who knows when the time will be found for that.  
**Yes, this conversation is copied (as much as my memory remembers it, because I'm writing in an absolutely empty apartment that does wonders for my concentration, but that also means no books) word-for-word from _The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe_, so it's _not mine_.  
***25 years old in Wolf years is 5 ½ (approximately) in human years. Wolves live 6-8 years in the wild, but can live 13-16 years in captivity, and I'm assuming Narnian Wolves live longer than the regular ones.

**Response to Anonymousme: horseback-riding is one of the few things I do very poorly that I actually enjoy; but I've had little opportunity, I'm afraid. It's funny how living in a farm state means there's so many tractors and so few horses anymore! Once and Future was, I admit, born out of a struggle to make an idea fit into a story rather than a snippet, and there's three other snippets (two of which are written) that are very different styles that I was already working on, so that's why I didn't elaborate. Felvrena does sound more ****feminine (though I don't think Felvren sounds masculine), but it also sounds less like a Wolf to me. I wanted a name I could shorten, because I liked Lucy nicknaming her; and I wanted it to start with an "F" for reasons I can't tell you yet (and probably won't remember to, so if you remember, ask me at the end of the story). So I played around with several variations before I found this one. It sounds like something from a hard, cruel Wolf pack, but also something that could be shortened to something pretty. Maugrim will be referenced in the story at some point, so that was a good guess! He was a part of her Wolf pack. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I just read several **_**very**_** good stories, and am not quite sure I want to write after them (it might be a bit of a let-down, and I'm still riding the high-above-earth cloud of good stories), and if fails in comparison to them, it's surely obvious this isn't the author of the original stories of Narnia.**

**Seriously. Lovely stories. Stories are lovely things. I've been reading for the past three hours and I still didn't get enough; sadly, I finished the stories. Isn't it an amazing thing that there's even more good stories out there to find?**

**Oh, bother writing. I want to go read.**

**Well, I did read the rest of the night, but I wrote this chapter this morning! Beta's by trustingHim17, with my thanks.**

OOOOO

It was midmorning when Ferela barked a short, sharp howl; instantly the troop halted. Edmund, closest to her, looked down. Her fur was bristling and her eyes were distant. But a moment later it fell flat and she shook herself and turned away, trotting over to the Captain. He bent to hear her low growls; the entire party was silent, trying to listen, but the three siblings, at least, couldn't make out her words. A minute later the Captain straightened. He nodded to Ferela and cantered towards the Three.

"You should stay here, Your Majesties," he said in a low voice. "Ferela smells something ahead. We should send scouts out before we enter."

"There's no noise; could it be a trap?" Peter wondered.

"Captain, what does she smell?" Edmund asked quietly.

He hesitated. "Blood," he said reluctantly, and the three froze.

Susan was gone a moment later. Her brothers swore, immediately going after her, Peter yelling for the soldiers to form up while Edmund cried Susan's name, telling her to come back. She was invisible through the trees. Seconds later their horses nearly ran into hers. She'd pulled hers up and was staring into a small clearing.

An Ogre lay dead on the ground. Peter glanced around sharply. He saw nothing. The Dogs spread out, sniffing, and Ferela trotted to the Ogre, teeth bared. "Dead, your Majesties," she called back to them, and Peter dismounted, his hand still on his sword. Ferela was sniffing up and down the Ogre's body, and Peter moved to join her. The Captain came with him while Edmund quietly took Susan's shaking hand.

"It's all right, Su," Peter heard him mutter as Peter moved away. "It's all right."

"His neck is torn out at the back, your Majesty," Ferela said quietly. "By a Wolf's teeth too, I'd swear - that's exactly how I'd pounce. But look at this," and she moved swiftly down the Ogre's length, to his feet, and Peter, bending closer, saw a small pool of blood and an open cut.

"Not made with teeth, your Majesty." The Captain knelt on his forelegs, examining it. "A dagger."

"There's another cut here," Ferela said, moving to his side. "Also a dagger. Too clean and deep to be a tooth."

Peter's breath moved out of him. "Lucy's dagger," he said. "She was fighting, at least."

A howl came from the edge of the clearing, and the Dogs exploded into conversation.

"I found it first-" "I did-" "Let me smell it!" "It's a Daughter of Eve, it's human-" Peter moved over the instant he heard the last.

"What is it?" he asked sharply, and the oldest dog looked up at him, sad eyes in a wrinkled face.

"Blood, your Majesty, your sister's blood," and Peter clenched his hand around his sword.

"Where?" he choked, and the Dogs moved. He searched the ground frantically with his eyes, but couldn't see anything. The old Dog nosed the ground.

"Here, your Majesty. Just a drop or two. Not much, not much." Peter knelt, and still couldn't see it.

"Not much?" he checked, trying not to beg, and the Dog nodded, his ears flapping. Peter closed his eyes and thanked Aslan. He opened them a moment later, taking control of himself. He still had to tell his siblings. "Thank you, good cousin," he said, and the Dog looked down at the forest floor, ears drooping. It is not an easy thing to tell your King you smell his sister's spilled blood. Peter patted his head before moving back to his siblings.

"Well?" Edmund asked quietly, looking down at him.

"Lucy was here," Peter responded, loud enough for all to hear. They deserved to know. "And a Wolf. The Ogre has two cuts, meaning Lucy used her dagger, but the Ogre fell from the bite of the Wolf. Whoever they were, they're fighting each other."

"We can use that," Edmund interjected grimly. "Wait - if she used her dagger, did they take it? Dogs," he said, raising his voice, "search the area for her dagger!"

"Wait," Peter said. "Good idea, Ed, and we will - but there's a bit more." He steeled himself, and Susan's eyes fastened themselves on his face. "The Dogs found a few drops of Lucy's blood. It wasn't more than that," he added hastily. "And we know she fought - an _Ogre_, and I'll want to know what she was _thinking_, there's no way she could have won with a _dagger_ \- and walked away with minor enough hurts we can only find two drops of blood. But she was definitely here."

"Oh, Lucy," Susan said, closing her eyes. Edmund's face was white.

"We're going to find them, Peter, and _kill_ them." His voice was grave, a promise; an absolute surety.

"Yes," Peter agreed.

"Anything more?" Peter shook his head. "Search the area for her dagger."

"And for any other signs," Susan added, pulling herself together. "I'll help." Salyte was instantly by her side, the Cat's grace a perfect counterpart to Susan's own. The Narnians searched the clearing but found nothing else. The Dogs were collected once more into a group, the humans mounted, and the hunt was on once more.

They found no more blood, and the further they went, the more Peter felt he could breathe. They had to be catching up. They were riding and Lucy was walking. They had to be close.

They had to be, because Peter didn't think he could take another discovery of Lucy's blood on the ground after a fight.

* * *

Ren woke Lucy the next morning with a soft nudge, her head pushing at Lucy's shoulder. Lucy yawned, pushing her red cloak back, and stretched. The sun was just coming up; she could see the light changing the color of the sky overhead. They'd walked the entire day before; Ren thought they'd reach wherever they were going today.

"Eat," said Ren's soft voice, and Lucy turned to see the Wolf had a strange collection of branches, each with dangling berries, in a pile on the ground. Ren had a few leaves in her mouth, and Lucy impulsively hugged her neck, remembering at the last moment to be gentle. Her own arm ached; Ren probably hurt as well.

"Thank you for breakfast," and Lucy turned towards it and frowned. "What are you eating?"

"I ate a few while bringing the branches." Ren was shaking her head again. Oh, right, she thought Lucy was kidnapped still.

Lucy couldn't exactly call it that when Aslan had called her here.

"Well, I think you should probably have more," Lucy told her, grabbing the top branch. She stripped off the berries with her fingers, putting them in two separate piles.

"That is _your_ breakfast, Lucy," Ren objected.

"Then I can share it if I want to," Lucy said, beaming at her, and the Wolf rolled her eyes. That looked very funny on a Wolf, Lucy admitted to herself.

"You would make a good Wolf," Ren said suddenly, watching Lucy work through the pile. Lucy looked at her inquiringly. "Wolves - they share everything they have with family."

Lucy nodded as if that made sense to her. "Aslan gave me and my siblings a whole country to share with others." Her voice was soft. "It is a great gift, to be given things to give. And He made all of Narnia our family." She smiled. "Edmund started calling all the Narnians "cousin," and we all picked it up. When they meet you, they're going to call you that as well," Lucy informed her, but Ren's eyes darkened.

"I would guess they will be too busy trying to run me through - or shoot me - to call me any such thing, Lucy of The Four," and her tone was dark. Lucy put her hand on Ren's neck, pausing in her breakfast preparations.

"Then I won't let them," she promised.

Ren's skin shivered, fur lifting. A moment later she sighed. "You are the strangest mix of cub - needing to be fed, led, taught, _protected_ \- and Queen, even though I am not one of your cousins - one of your own." She turned her head away.

"Aslan said you _were_ my own," Lucy reminded her. Her hand still in Ren's thick fur, she could feel the Wolf flinch, and she heard air hissing over sharp teeth as the Wolf drew it inward. "And Aslan can make even a little child lead people to Himself."

Ren didn't answer. Lucy got up and took the Wolf's head in both hands, turning it towards herself.

Ren was crying. The tears* slipped down the thick fur beneath her gold eyes and falling to the ground. Lucy hurriedly pulled her handkerchief - embroidered by the Mice back at Cair Paravel with an ornate version of her name - out of her belt and wiped away the tears.

"I'm not the only one you need to lead, little child," Ren said, her voice ragged.

"Then who else? I promise to _try_," Lucy asked, pleading one more time for Ren to tell her everything.

The Wolf took a deep breath. "You'll meet them later today. I'll tell you then, I promise - tell you everything. But - give me today. This last walk, when you're still my friend, my little one, as well as my Queen. Give me this - before you turn away." Lucy frowned. She brought both hands back up to the drying Wolf fur and looked Ren straight in the eyes.

"I'm not going to turn away," she promised, her tone as firm as she could make it. "Aslan wouldn't let me."

The Wolf twisted her head out of Lucy's hands, turning away. "I have had hope taken from me one too many times to believe in it now, Aslan's Queen," she whispered.

Ren's head out of reach, Lucy leaned forward and hugged as much of the Wolf as she could reach. There were a few Narnians, mainly Black Dwarfs, who had endured so much during the Winter, even in the face of Aslan's spring they had struggled to believe they'd won. Their hope had gone sour, or shattered. Lucy had tried every single day to give hope back to them, until Susan had gently taken her aside. "You must give them time," the older Queen had instructed, a loving arm around Lucy's shoulders. "Give them time to believe in hope again." It hadn't been easy to wait, but Lucy had. Now she had to wait for Ren as well.

She waited for what felt like a long time, the Wolf unmoving in her arms. "You should eat," the Wolf said finally. "We've a long march and an unpleasant ending waiting for us today."

"I will if you will," Lucy replied, and she felt the Wolf's sides move out and in as she sighed.

"Very well," but her tone was gracious. They ate breakfast together, talking about the part of Narnia they were in - Ren knew it well. Lucy was fascinated. There were streams running through the roots of the trees, an iron marvel that gave light many days travel away, mountains rising higher and higher, and the border running along them - but here Ren shook her head.

"Evil things come over the border still. It is said the White Qu-the Witch herself came over the border, at the beginning of the hundred years of winter. She came from somewhere in the North." She glanced at Lucy's severely diminished pile of berries. Her own was gone. "We should go." She hesitated. "It would be better - less scary - to enter the camp by daylight." Lucy nodded, glad for the feel of her dagger beside the soaked handkerchief on her belt, and she shoveled another handful of berries in her mouth, getting to her feet as she dusted her hands. Ren turned and led the way.

They walked through the morning, stopping by a stream every so often to drink. Ren continued teaching Lucy, sometimes checking on her skill with her dagger as they walked, sometimes talking about the stories of the first family of Wolves and their immediate descendants, sometimes listening to Lucy speak of her siblings and Cair Paravel - and Aslan.

It was a wonderful walk. It held a freedom Lucy hadn't felt in a while, not for this long, to be with just one person and be their friend. It was nice to just be with one person - though she did wish her siblings where here.

Her siblings, though she did not know it, where in the same wood, following her trail and gaining quickly, though they'd slowed when the underbrush grew thick, dismounting from their horses and hacking a path. They'd discovered the leftovers of Lucy's breakfast a few minutes before Lucy and Felvren walked into their enemy's camp.

Felvren paused on the top of a hill, standing by a tree and looking down at muddy, ragged camp with golden eyes.

A soft whine broke from her lips, and Lucy laid a hand on her neck. Felvren looked from Lucy to the camp and back to Lucy, twisting her head back and forth as she was torn inside.

"I wish I could ask Aslan what to do!" Her whisper was fierce, desperate, and Lucy heard for the first time how young Ren truly was. "But his answer - I cannot take you back - not and let them live - but you are _mine_, you've become _mine_, and to take you there might be to lose you! I cannot - I cannot-"

A long, loud howl sounded in the camp below, and it exploded into chaos. Ogres picked up clubs, Minotaurs grabbed axes, ugly men shifted into wolves and raised their voices in their own howl - all evil creatures. And they were running from the camp, running towards Lucy and Ren. "They scented us," breathed Ren, and her voice was breaking. A moment later she bared her teeth, and Lucy felt her settle into that hardness she'd seen come over the Wolf. The still, quiet hardness of a predator who'd become desperate, and dangerous. More Felvren than Ren, Lucy thought, stroking the Wolf's neck and wishing she could show Ren she didn't have to become something evil to survive. The Wolf shook herself, shaking off Lucy's hand and moving a step away - but also a step forward, moving between Lucy and the roaring, evil crowd. Lucy, looking at them quickly, realised her dagger wouldn't be much use, and they'd probably take it, and quickly took her cordial, dagger, and handkerchief and pulled up one edge of her skirt, slipping them into a hidden pocket she'd asked the tailors to make in almost all her dresses. Susan had taught her it was a good idea to have a place to hide things on her person. That done, Lucy straightened and looked calmly at the crowd, even though her heart was thundering inside her.

Aslan. Aslan was with her. And Aslan had done this too, surrendered to a crowd that roared and wanted him dead. Though Lucy hoped He wouldn't let them kill her; that would hurt Ren, and that would hurt her siblings so _much_.

Aslan, she reminded herself again. He is with me. She took a breath and her heart settled. She waited, staring calmly, as the crowd reached the hill and rushed up, stopping a shadow's length short of the growling, bristling Wolf.

"What have you brought?" a rough, gravelly voice called, and a Minotaur forced his way forward, towering over the Wolf. His bull horns were painted red, and his axe was coated with a dried brown liquid.**

"A Daughter of Eve, Lucy, youngest of The Four," growled Felvren back. The crowd cried out, imprecations and sneers of The Four hurled their way, and it surged forward, only to quiet at Felvren's growl. "She's _mine_. We use her to take back a part of Narnia, make it our own again. Already her siblings are on her trail. We wait for them. We wait for them, Grukius, and make them give us what we haven't had since the end of Winter. They'll do it, for her. We keep her, unharmed, and they will give us what we want." Her eyes hadn't left the Minotaur's.

He broke into a thundering laugh, cold and hateful, and Lucy shuddered. "You would know all about giving up anything for family," and his eyes moved to Lucy, then back to the Wolf. "She is yours. For now. But you fail at this, Felvren - you let our kingdom slip through your paws - and she is _mine_." He looked back at Lucy. "All mine," he whispered cruelly. Lucy's hand ached to grab her dagger, to show him exactly what would happen if he _tried_ to claim her, but forced her hand to stay still. Wait, Edmund would say, wait and listen. Not yet. Not yet.

The Minotaur's bull mouth growled. "I will enjoy breaking you, tiny Daughter of Eve. But not yet. Not yet," and Lucy looked back at him firmly. No, not yet. It wasn't time to fight yet. Grukius turned to the crowd. "She's Felvren's, and no one touches her. Not till we see whether Felvren can bring us the same glory her mate once had. But hear her. The other Three aren't far. Crows! Wolves! Dryads with your whispering roots, go and find them! Find how many they are, how far from us, how armed! The rest of you, prepare for battle!" He drew himself up. "Perhaps, instead of a part of Narnia, we will take all of it!" he roared, and the crowd roared back, cries and gibberings and jeers drowning out Lucy's shout of "No!"

The Wolves, three Dogs, and a Fox split off, running in different directions, and the crowd surged around Lucy and the Wolf, yelling, screaming, ugliness everywhere, and turned to run back to the camp. Lucy had to run along or be trampled, but Ren ran at her side, snapping at creature that came too close. Down they ran, down the hill, through the forest edge, finally breaking into the clearing. Lucy's hand held her side, trying to breathe, and her feet fought the clinging mud. The camp was cold, even though it smelled of burning fires, and Lucy pressed a little closer to Ren. When they reached the grey, tattered tents the crowd was forced to split, no longer a mob running together, and Ren pressed against Lucy's side to steer her to the side, running through the tents to the other side of the camp. One by on the evil creatures turned away, and only Ren and Lucy were left as they reached the trees on the other side, Ren slowing to a walk. Her eyes were fixed on a tremendous tree, large enough Lucy and all her siblings could fit inside. The base of it had a hollow. Ren was watching it with the same intensity she had ever watched Lucy, and she lifted her voice in a low, soothing cry.

From inside the hole there were sudden whimpers, and falling over each other, stumbling into the light, were three other Wolves. One had a red handkerchief tied around the furry neck, one had a green ribbon tied around the front paw, and the third had a blue bag, a little smaller than Ren's white one. They were fully grown, a few years old.*** But they ran to Felvren like cubs, whimpering and pushing and playing, yipping "Hello!" as they reached up to lick her face, and Felvren closed her eyes and lowered herself to the grass, letting the three roll over her. The red-clad one jumped on her back and then off, over and over, the blue one was pouncing on her tail, and the one with the green ribbon was nuzzling her face.

Lucy stood and watched, smiling. These were Ren's family.

Ren rolled over on her back, batting at the one with the red handkerchief and twitching her tail out of the other's mouth. She rolled back to her feet a moment later, shaking herself.

"Enough, my cubs." They quieted, and Ren turned towards Lucy, three heads turning a moment later in perfect synchronization. "There is someone I want you to meet."

OOOOO

*So - cool fact that I discovered while looking up whether or not wolves can cry - wolves are born with blue eyes, but like most humans, they lose that eye color as they mature. Only Cubs have blue eyes; no adult wolves. Also, I did find out via Google that: "Canines have a third eyelid (nictitans) which stretches across the eye and contains a gland [...] these tear glands excrete an oily substance rather than watery tears: Canines are not able to shed the moist tears of sorrow as humans do, but this doesn't mean they don't cry."

**So, the evil author in me was very, very tempted to end the chapter right there. But that would be _cruel_, and I am trying not to be that, at least!

***Wolves mature in nine months to a year.

**Respond to Anonymousme: Thank you for catching that on "One Year"—I'm guessing that was autocorrect's lovely contribution, since I checked the name before posting. But it's fixed now; thanks again. Your cat sounds adorable. We don't have cats (two dogs, though), but there are times I go on Youtube and watch Simon's Cat videos just to laugh. I'm glad you liked "Ghost of the Gentle Queen." I hope you don't mind, but I'd rather not post the State I'm in publically, and since I can't private message you, I'm afraid you'll just have to wonder. :(**** Sorry. I was helping to paint the empty apartment, and found I stayed (with permission) after everyone had left, because it truly was a wonderful place to write in. I also admit to liking cliffhangers; I'm very much a mischief-maker. At the same time I really don't like them as a reader, so I try to compromise and not make them too awful! And to update regularly; this should be three or four days after you posted, so hopefully that's soon enough! I'm afraid Ren's not related to Ferela in any way (that they've told me at least), but I was wondering, may I have your permission to use the name Rena? I do have a character I'd like to use it for. Please?**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Wolves and humans both were made by God, Narnia was made by Lewis, and this story is merely playing with the results of the Creator and those made in His image - made to be creators. **

**Important**** A/N: So, in my edition of **_**The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe**_**, the head of the secret police is not called Maugrim, but Fenris. According to Google, "**In early American editions of the book, Lewis changed the name to Fenris Ulf (a reference to Fenrisúlfr, a wolf from Norse mythology), but when HarperCollins took over the books they took out Lewis' revisions, and the name Maugrim has been used in all editions since 1994." **So I have an older copy of the book with Lewis's revisions, and I've always known him as Fenris. It didn't occur to me that it was different for most readers until people started commenting and using the other name. By then I had bound up Felvren's name with a history that included "Fenris." I considered changing it to Maugrim and forgetting the history, but it would leave a few small moments from former chapters unanswered (like Felvren's surprise at being called "Ren"), and that bothered me as an author. **

**Please be aware that Fenris and Maugrim are the same people.**

**Oh, look, I made a monster conversation chapter. The story should move much more quickly after this!**

OOOOO

The cub with the red handkerchief immediately crouched, growling. "A Daughter of Eve!" he snarled, baring his teeth. His siblings crouched beside him, their growls filling the air. Ren nipped him from behind, and he whirled to face his mother.

"She is another cub of mine," Ren said sternly, and his two siblings straightened, staring at their mother in bewilderment.

"But she's a _Daughter of Eve!_ Grukius says they're the enemy!" and the blue one yipped his agreement.

"They are _his_ enemy, not ours!" His mother's voice cut through the air, then she softened her tone. "She has shared her food with me, woke me when an Ogre threatened us, fought with me, and forgave me when I spilled her blood as I snapped at her in my sleep." The three glanced at Lucy, then down to the cut on Lucy's arm, though their mother's eyes never left them.

"She...acts like family," said the one with a green ribbon, her voice high and sweet.

"How can an enemy act like family?" the one with the blue bag asked, frowning. He trotted over to Lucy fearlessly and sniffed her arm. He stood as tall as Lucy's waist, but he tilted his head curiously and showed no teeth, and she gladly indulged his curiosity. "She smells like _you_," he informed his mother, twisting his head.

"We kept each other warm through the cold forest night," Ren said, her tone a little amused.

The blue one thought it over and nodded. "She's family," he decided, and before Lucy could respond he'd licked her hand, all the way up her arm to her elbow. "She doesn't taste like us, though," and he sounded disappointed.

"I'm sorry," Lucy said gravely, but inside she was smiling. "I'm Lucy."

"I'm unnamed," he told her, licking her again thoughtfully. "You don't taste like _anything_ else."

"Enough," their mother said, though her tone was gentle. "She is your sister, and her care is yours, in this camp." Her eyes flickered to her red-clad son, who was still growling deep in his throat.

"Grukius says they took the White Queen's throne," he declared stubbornly.

"_Enough!_" his mother hissed, jerking her head towards the camp, scanning it for listening ears. "She saved my life, and I would think you value _that_ over the life of the White Queen! I am your mother, and I say she is ours!"

"You may be our mother, but you never let us grow up! Grukius says he'll let me fight, and run, and hunt, and all the things you never let us do!" The cub's voice rose in a whine, and his mother snapped at him, teeth inches from his face.

"Into the den!" she snarled, her voice at full volume. Her son's ears flattened as he dropped to his belly. He crawled forward, his siblings running past him. "I do not forget this, my son," she warned him. "We will discuss it inside." He'd paused to hear her, and vanished quickly into the hollowed tree after she finished speaking.

Ren's own head dropped low, and Lucy quickly went to her, gently putting her hand on the Wolf's head and stroking it. She wanted to ask for Ren's help to make sure her siblings and the other Narnians would be ok, to get a warning to them, but she wanted to help Ren heal too. That must come first. That was the task Aslan had given her.

"What did he mean, you won't let them grow up?" she asked after a moment. Ren sighed.

"They are full grown. If we were not...where we are, they would have learned to hunt, to fight, to travel, to be adults, two or three winters past. But we _are_ here, and to keep them from being taken as warriors I taught them nothing." Her tone was bleak, her nose touching the ground as her head sank lower still. "If they can do nothing, they will not be called on to murder, to steal, or to wreak fear." She shuddered. "But neither is this good for them," she whispered. "I always, always take the coward's choice."

Lucy put her other hand on Ren's head. "Why didn't you bring them to us?" The Wolf lifted her head to look at Lucy and kept her silence. "We would have helped. We would have helped all of you!" Ren looked towards the camp as Lucy promised, and Lucy glanced there quickly too. Two hags were lurking on the outskirts, near tents, staring. Ren quickly walked to the front of hollow and lay down, guarding the door. Lucy went, sitting cross-legged beside her, staring defiantly at the hags. They leered at her, and she dropped her hand to the hem of her gown, feeling the dagger as a reassurance. "You promised to tell me," she reminded her friend when the Wolf still didn't speak.

The furred body heaved up, then down as she breathed. "Do you remember meeting another Wolf?" Ren asked at last. "One—one who was the Chief of her Secret Police?"

Lucy swallowed. "He chased Susan and I to a tree, near Aslan's camp. Aslan was gone - with Peter - I didn't know how to fight. Susan was so brave, she blew her horn - Father Christmas's gift, you see - before she was even safe. He treed us, snapping at us, and Susan was so afraid, she almost fell. But Peter came," Lucy remembered proudly. "He fought the Wolf and slew him. Aslan knighted him for that. I won't ever, ever forget it, Peter kneeling in front of Aslan, and rising as if he'd been born new, made just for this—for being a knight." She looked over at Ren, but Ren's eyes were closed.

"Even then, he went for the weak - the little girls who couldn't fight back," she muttered. Her eyes opened, and the one on Lucy's side gazed at her. "He was my husband, Queen Lucy. The Wolf. Fenris Ulf, chief of the feared secret spillers and great hunter of little girls and brave desperate squirrels."

Lucy stared open-mouthed at the festering anger in her tone - and the despair running underneath it. "Those three cubs," and her tail twitched, "the ones who help to guard you, they are _his_ sons. The cubs of Fenris Ulf. Just _cubs_," she pleaded, the anger vanishing. "So young, and not evil, I promise, they're not, I've worked _so hard_ to make them different, but how could I bring them to you? How could I come and ask you to look after the children of the one who spilled blood after blood and secret after secret, as long as he lived? There is no other place for us! Nowhere but _here_!"

"Yes there _was_," Lucy broke in. She swallowed. "There _is_, I mean."

Ren laughed, a short, bitter bark. "Why? Because Aslan-" she cried and broke off, shaking, as she looked to the tents. The two Hags had jumped back at the Lion's name, and Ren sat up, watching them intently. Lucy's hand came back up to stroke the Wolf, trying to flatten her fur. "Because _Aslan_ told you that you were my Queen?" Ren whispered. Lucy frowned.

"Why can't you believe it? I _saw_ Him."

"Why would He save me now?" Ren's tone was as bitter as it had been when she spoke of her husband. "I was barely full grown when-" She stopped. "I _loved_ Him," she whispered. "I saw the winter kill my mother, weak from birthing us, and I hated it. I slipped out, as a cub, to snarl at it and shake it off the branches—just a child, taking what revenge I could. I learned to run far, and dodging the snow, I learned to run fast. But running so far, so quickly, so quietly, I began to hear whispers—the whispers of His Narnians. I heard His name, I heard it over and over; I heard _hope_. Winter ending, no more hiding, no more _death_. I thought I was one of His Narnians. I thought one of our pack could be _that_. I _thought_," she mocked herself, "that what we loved made a difference in whose we were."

"It does," Lucy interjected quietly.

"It didn't," Ren responded bitterly. "Because I'd learned to run too fast, too skilled, and someone noticed. Someone who liked to take the best. Fenris Ulf, beloved of the White Queen - or so he said, but I never heard any love in any tone of hers—he wanted me. I said _no_," she begged Lucy to understand, "I said no for months, and I learned to find my own food, and sleep only with the rest of the pack, and run so fast when I heard him coming - but I could not run fast enough. He chased. He was faster than I was, but never caught me; not quite. He liked the hunt. He let it drag on, and on, and on, and I begged Aslan for help. I begged Him. Every night, every time I saw Fenris, every time I heard those footsteps chasing me. But then he was chosen for the Secret Police, and he had to finish the hunt. He caught me near Narnia's border." Ren was shaking. "He held me to the ground, digging me into _her_ snow, and gave me a choice. His wife—or death. I was so scared, so scared, to end up like my mother had, and I cried out for Aslan, and Fenris only pushed me further, telling me to choose _now_. I chose to live," and mockery and pain struggled in her voice, "like any coward would. I chose to live, to take his name, and bear his cubs, and be his wife. I chose life rather than Aslan, and I've been a coward ever since. Cowards can't be His. A coward's Cubs can't be His either."

Lucy knew that was wrong, but what could she say? What should—she struggled to find the words, to refute the lies, but Ren wasn't even looking towards her. She looked back towards the hollow, where her cubs were, the only thing she had left to love.

"I wept when I heard Fenris was killed," the Wolf said tonelessly. "Wept, because he was finally gone, and I could train his sons _not_ to be like him. We were free. Free from his name—for he'd made me take the first part, and changed my name from Ren to Fenren. Widowed, I would _not_ bear his name. But neither was I Ren, the simple child who thought she'd belonged to Aslan. I chose a new name for myself. A new name, a new person. I told myself I could walk the line—the line between evil and good. Spring and Winter both have their time now. I'd obey the commands of those who held my children's lives, but I'd warn those of Aslan's that I could. I'd survive. I chose surviving again, but I had a reason this time, three reasons, three who needed me! _We'd_ survive. As well as any others I reached." Her eyes closed again in pain. "But then I met you, a child yourself, with a dagger in your belt and a determination to roam evil's woods. And I had to choose. I _had _to." She paused. "I chose them, my little cubs, but you—you made me choose you too. Lucy, what do I do now?"

Lucy was trying to take it all in. "You're still Aslan's." This seemed the most important thing. "I don't know why He didn't save you, but remember the first person who kidnapped me? He gave in to evil out of fear, too. And Aslan Himself breathed on him to make him live again! I was there—at the White Witch's castle, and I ran as hard as I could to find Aslan, and Aslan ran back with me, He _ran_, and breathed on Mr. Tumnus. Mr. Tumnus has been Aslan's ever since."

"But the stories say he stopped being a coward." Ren rose to all four feet, nodding her head at the camp. "They curse his name. The Werewolves gather around the fire and speak of hunting him down." Lucy shivered, hating the idea of evil hunting her friends, and Ren sighed. "I am sorry. These things are not for a child to hear."

"They are if I'm to fight them," Lucy retorted fiercely, then paused. "He stopped being a coward, Ren, because he became my friend. You're already my friend." Ren let out a low whine. "You are."

"All I've done is hurt you." Ren breathed again on the arm near her, the scratch on it still red. "That is no friend, Lucy."

"Yes, you have been," Lucy coaxed. "You brought branches to keep me warm. You fed me. You fought an Ogre for me. You've already been brave. You can stop helping them, just like Mr. Tumnus did. I even know how," she said, her desire for Peter, Susan, and Edmund's safety coalescing with this idea. "Right here, right now. You can help us."

Ren looked back at her, tail twitching. Lucy saw her fighting the decision again, like before—only now Lucy knew who she was. Now Ren had to know Lucy wouldn't turn away. Please, Aslan, help Ren believe me. "What do you want?" Ren asked raggedly.

"Help me warn my siblings," Lucy said seriously. She opened her mouth to explain why they _needed_ to do that and how her siblings would come and wipe out all the Fell creatures, when Ren laughed, high and hysterical. The Wolf collapsed back onto the ground.

"Not free you from the camp," Ren choked. "Not take you and the cubs into hiding. Not get you out. You are the furthest thing from a coward I have ever seen. How can you bear to look on me? All right, my Queen, all right. All right. What do we do?"

"Can you get a message to the others?" Lucy asked, heart sinking as Ren shook her large, furred head.

"I may go out of the camp if my children remain behind. They know I'll come back. But if I leave you here without my claim on you, Grukius will claim you for himself. And that I will not do," Ren promised.

Lucy hesitated. "What of your children?" she asked softly. Ren closed her eyes.

"They cannot track." Her voice broke, pleading for Lucy not to do this.

"I can," interrupted a quiet voice behind them, and the two jumped, turning to see three sets of eyes watching in the dark behind them. The green-clad girl stepped forward, her head - like her mother's, with the same markings - lowered. "I knew you forbid it, Mother, but I hated staying here. I...I go out, and I learned quickly to avoid those in the camp - they hit us, and mock us, and to do that, I had to know their trails…" She looked up at her mother. "I would like to help foil them," she said quietly. "I can track, Mother. I promise."

"No," Ren whispered. "No."

"You've said _she_ is family." The blue Cub stepped forward to where his sister was. "Mother, think. If she is family, her family is our family too. We have to help them. You've said that's what packs do. Even if they're afraid." He looked over at his sister. "I cannot help you track," he said seriously. "But try to think out there, right?"

"But-" Ren fell silent as Lucy's hand landed on her head.

"Don't make decisions when you're afraid," Lucy said softly. "Aslan sent me here, all the way to this camp with you. If she's His, He'll be with your daughter too."

"The way He was with me?"

Lucy grabbed Ren. "The way He's with you _now_."

"Please, Mother. We have to grow up some time. I would far rather grow up to be His than _theirs_," and the girl regarded the camp with scorn. Lucy turned back to her, trusting Ren's silence as agreement.

"What's your name?"

"I do not have one," the cub responded. "None of the three of us do; names are given after one's first hunt. We're simply called Felvren's Cubs."

Lucy winced. She remembered the moment she'd heard Aslan say their names; the thrill of Him _knowing_ the names, and knowing them. The cubs should have names. "I think this counts as a hunt," she said seriously.

"Then will you name me?" The Cub took another step forward, looking straight up at Lucy, and Lucy smiled.

"Rena," she said, testing it. "After your mother." The newly named Rena threw back her head and howled a delighted song. Her brother quickly shushed her.

"Don't make noise if you're _sneaking away_," he admonished, and Rena cowered, a small whine coming out.

"Shall I name you as well?" Lucy asked, but he shook his head.

"I haven't hunted yet - and Brother says I'm sure to fail my first hunt," he joked. "But you need to tell Rena" - and Rena bounced on hearing her name - "what to say, because she won't think of it on her own."

"Yes I would!" Rena protested indignantly, but Lucy laughed and knelt, her head the same level as the Wolf's.

"Take this," she said, reaching for her belt and taking out her handkerchief. "My brothers and sister will recognise it. Tell them it's a token. Tell them the camp of Fell Creatures is hunting them, and I'm ok. Tell them where we are." Rena nodded, and Lucy quickly reached forward and untied the green ribbon, tucking the handkerchief beneath it and tying it again.

"Rena," said a grieving voice behind her, and Lucy moved out of the way for Ren to come forward. Ren put her head against her daughter's, both closing their eyes. "Rena, be careful. Please."

"I will, Mother. Promise. Don't worry, we're just growing up," and she headbutted her mother gently.

"Be safe," Ren whispered. "Go now, before dark falls and they go out to their hunts. Follow the river around the camp, then head for the hills. Join the other Narnians swiftly; they will not harm you if you bear good news of the Queen." She hesitated. "Aslan be with you," she finished softly.

Rena nodded, licked her brother, turned and headbutted the third Cub in the shadows, and melted into the forest. Lucy looked back at Ren.

"Now we count," Lucy said.

OOOOO

**Beta'd by trustingHim17. Thank you again! I'm sorry I forget so often; at least I remembered this time, even if it was at the end! **

**Also, the name "Rena" was a gift from Anonymousme.**

**Response to Anonymousme: I went and looked at the profile you mentioned; it's an eagle instead of a kestral, but I admit the picture is very similar. ****Rambling can make for interesting conversations sometimes; random trains of thought. I'm so glad you liked the last chapter; this one's a bit slow, but I wasn't sure how else to move the plot along. Hopefully it works. On to action in the next chapter! I'm afraid you weren't quite the first to review "The Way Death Came," but you were close! At least in the order the emails arrived; WillowDryad was the first. But I much enjoyed the reviews you left! I'm rather looking forward to the knighting Eustace story myself...when they finally tell me enough to write it. But currently two leopards are trying to get my attention for the next short story, so Eustace may be more forthcoming after that.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I've as much claim to Narnia as I do to our system of counting. And I've never been terribly fond of math.**

**Beta'd by trustingHim17, who really helps me write consistently, rather than just here and there. Thank you!**

OOOOO

"Count?" Lucy had the inquisitive blue Cub's attention. "Count what? Why?"

"Count all the enemies, and their weapons," Lucy responded. "We're doing it because Oreius, Peter, and Edmund like knowing those numbers."

A snort echoed in the hollow behind them. "All good generals do," said red-clad Cub, still staring at Lucy. "You don't because you're a _girl_. And they're _your_ enemies, not _ours_."

Lucy reminded herself she was a Queen and held her temper. "I don't see the need if we're going to fight them anyway, we can't change our soldiers. Aslan is on our side," she responded after a moment. She paused. She couldn't imagine the Fell leaving helpless creatures _entirely_ untouched, no matter what bargain they'd made with the mother. "Are they really not your enemies?" she asked, turning to the oldest Cub.

He hesitated. His eyes glanced towards his blue-clad brother, then away again. "They never try to harm _me_," he muttered.

"What about your siblings?"

"I won't let them," the red Cub growled, whipping back around. "They won't _touch _them. They're mine!" Lucy looked at him for a moment, then smiled.

"You're like your mother," she told him, glancing at Ren. Ren was sitting back, watching her "Cubs" work things out. Wolves were very paws off in their parenting between siblings, Lucy noted.

The oldest Cub glanced at Ren too. "How?" he asked, warily curious.

"She doesn't let anything hurt the people that are hers either," and Lucy reached out her hand to touch Ren's neck. "She's kept me safe. She killed the Ogre for me."

"Shhh!" Ren hissed, glancing at the camp.

Right. The camp. Lucy stood and took a step towards it.

In a flash Ren was blocking her, almost pushing her back. "What are you _doing?_"

Lucy frowned. "I'm going to go count them." Ren shut her eyes.

"_Lucy_," she said, all but pleading. "Use common sense. _For once_. They're not me. You go within arm's reach of them and they'll kill you. They _hate_ you. You can't go anywhere near them."

"They can't harm me unless Aslan allows it," Lucy replied quietly. "And knowing what to expect will allow Peter and Edmund to make a good plan."

"Aslan also told you to stay with _me_," Ren bit back. "And I'm not going there. With you."

"Can I go?" a high-pitched whine broke in, and Ren and Lucy both looked towards the blue-clad Cub. "It's _counting_," he told his mother. "I _like_ counting. And they don't see me. Most of the time. I can help our new family, and I can _count_."

Ren paused. Lucy could see Ren's eyes glistening, her head still because she couldn't nod or shake it; she had no other answer. "You have to let them grow up," Lucy said quietly, stroking Ren's head again. "Are they in any danger in the camp?" Rena hadn't been, she knew, going out to seek her siblings—they'd never hurt a Cub. But the camp…

"Not if I go with him. _I_ can keep him safe," a haughty voice said, and the last Cub came trotting out at last. He ignored Lucy, but softened when he looked at his mother. "I'll make sure no one touches him," he promised. Ren lowered her head.

"You count inside, where none can hear you, and you don't let anyone see," she instructed softly. "You keep to the shadows, as you would if you were playing hide-and-find with your siblings. Keep track, in that intense brain of yours, of how many of each kind of Beast, each type of warrior."

The Wolf's hindquarter's wriggled with excitement. "Mum? If I do it—if I come back and I've counted correctly—can I have a name? Can this be my first hunt? Please? Please, please, please?"

Ren laughed, though the sound echoed with sorrow. "Yes, little one—yes. This can be your first hunt." The Cub smiled, all around his snout, each tooth showing in his joy. His older brother sniffed.

"I don't want this to be _my_ first hunt," he informed his mother. "I want mine to _mean_ something."

His wriggling sibling ignored him. "Lucy? Will you pick my name, please? I really liked Rena's." He hesitated. "Could you pick a name for someone smart? Because I'm really smart, I promise. I think about things all the time. It's what I have, since I'm not strong like Brother or fast like Sister. I've always wanted a really smart name. Please?" and he sat and looked at her with eyes that pleaded as much as any Cub's could.

"Yes!" Lucy promised, trying to think of any names of smart people she knew. Well, ones that weren't already used. Maybe one from that other place? She didn't remember much…the only one she could think of was one her brothers had mentioned from their school, and she had no idea who he was, only that everyone studied him. She hoped the Cub liked the name. "How about Socrates?"

The Wolf tilted his head, mulling it over. "Sock-ra-tees," he said slowly, pronouncing each syllable. "I like it." He whisked himself around, crouching in readiness to run towards the camp. "I'm going to go earn it!" He sprang forward and his brother sprang after him (probably rolling his eyes), and the two who remained behind watched till the spies melted into the shadows of the tent. Lucy sighed and turned to Ren.

"Now we wait," she said regretfully. "I hate waiting."

* * *

I suppose you're wondering what happened to Rena. Or King Peter and the rest, but we're going to follow Rena first.

Like her mother, Rena loved to run fast and run far. To the Crows above, she made herself seem like another Wolf, hunting for the Narnians; the Fell on the ground she avoided. She had never liked them. They tried to hurt Rena (she had a name now!) before she learned how to run too fast for them to catch; they still hurt her younger brother when they could. She liked Lucy much better. She made mother smell kinder, stronger—more like a leader of a pack. Lucy was _family_.

What was this new scent? She hadn't smelled this before. Horse, she thought, wrinkling her nose, but mixed in with it—something that smelled a little bit like Lucy!

The wind blew the scent towards her again. No, no, it didn't smell much like Lucy at all. (She had a name like Lucy did!) But there were other smells—Fauns, tree-scent, sharp-metal, loud metal, leather, Dogs, Dwarves-

She ran smack into the forelegs of something very, very tall, too busy smelling to realise she'd reached the owners of the scents. A strong hand reached down and grabbed her by the scruff, lifting her up, up, and up, higher than almost anyone else in the large group of Narnians. She yipped. This hand was _very_ strong. It belonged to the arm of a Centaur, and the Centaur was staring at her.

"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" demanded a deep voice, and she yipped again.

"I'm Rena!" She glanced down at the forest floor. It was very far away. "Please put me down!"

But a moment later she couldn't see the forest floor for the Dogs racing around underneath her.

"She smells like Queen Lucy! Oreius, she has something on her that smells like Queen Lucy!" The Centaur holding her—Oreius—frowned. "The white square on her leg!" the Dogs barked, and Oreius reached for the handkerchief tied to her leg with her ribbon. Rena promptly folded her leg to her chest.

"I'm not supposed to give it to you, unless you're her family," she informed Oreius, starting out bravely, but whining as he frowned. "Maybe you are family!" She thought a moment. "Because Lucy isn't like _us,_ but we're her pack, and so maybe you're her family even though you're not like her! Are you? Because she said to give it to her brothers and sister, and they would recognize it. Do you recognize it?"

Oreius' frown was getting deeper and deeper, and his eyebrows were getting higher and higher, till at last he shook her. Just a little. "_Quiet_," he commanded, and she shut up. He was worse than her older brother, she thought privately. But she didn't argue with her older brother either. "I am _not_," he informed her "family to their Majesties. But I am charged with their safety. _Where. Is. Queen. Lucy._"

Rena hesitated. He was _scary_. But she remembered her mother saying _I always make the coward's choice_ in a tone of defeat. It would make her mother very unhappy if Rena was a coward too. "Lucy said to tell her family, and I'm not telling anyone else," she growled.

"Perhaps, General," interjected a quiet voice behind them, "we can solve both problems. King Peter and the others are only a short ride away, if the Birds are right. And if Queen Lucy is giving the Wolf orders, I do not think the Queen is in too much danger."

Rena nodded her head. Lucy hadn't said not to tell people _that_. "She's our pack now," she informed the Centaur. "We won't let her get hurt." Oreius hesitated.

"If you are not telling the truth, I will skewer you with my sword," he growled. "I will take you to their Majesties." Rena tensed, expecting him to drop her, but he swung her around to settle on his back with a surprisingly gentle hand. "Do not dig your claws in me to keep your balance," he warned her, and she nodded. He nodded to the soldiers behind him—_lots_ of soldiers, Rena realized—and then ran. Rena crouched on his back for balance. That kept her too busy to talk for several minutes.

"You are too old to be a cub," she heard Oreius speak, though he did not turn his head. "Yet you speak like one."

"I'm growing up now," Rena said proudly. "I will have my name when I give the token to her brothers and sister. My name will be _Rena_."

"I see." Oreius ducked under a branch, then halted, holding up one hand. Rena nearly fell off, scrambling for balance, barely remembering _not_ to dig her claws in. She sat up, sniffing. A moment later she jumped down from the Centaur's back and ran forward, dodging trees; she could smell _Lucy_. Ignoring the startled yelps and quickly-drawn swords of the group of people she darted into, she headed right for Lucy's scent.

It was a horse. _Just_ a horse, she realized in disappointment, with something on its back that smelled like Lucy. She drooped in disappointment.

Another horse came near, and she looked up at the person on its back

He had the funny fur on top of his head that looked like Lucy's, and two legs, and he was kind of scary too, as he frowned. His frown was even scarier than the sword in his hand. Maybe—stop and think, like Little Brother would tell her to. She should ask first, and make sure, but she thought this really might be Lucy's brother! He even smelled like he'd been around her.

"Are you Lucy's brother?" she asked him and watched with relief as his frown turned into a confused look. But his frown came back quickly.

"I am," and she stopped herself from flinching, especially as two other funny-looking people on horses came near. "Do you bring a ransom demand?"

She frowned herself, distracted. "What's a ran-som?" she asked curiously. The first one looked to the other two. The other one with short fur shrugged, and the long-furred one sighed.

"Perhaps I'd better handle this, Peter," she suggested.

"Perhaps that would be best," said a deep voice behind her, and Rena jumped, because that was the Centaur with the very strong arms. "I do not believe she means us any harm, Your Majsties."

The long-furred nodded and turned back to Rena. "I am Lucy's sister, and these are her brothers. Were you looking for us?"

Rena nodded as quickly as could. She'd done it! She'd completed her first hunt! Rena was her name now! "She said to tell you lots of things. She said to tell you about our camp, with all the people in it, and to tell you that the camp people are hunting you—like I was! But I got here _first_, so I earned my name! Lucy gave it to me, it's Rena. And she said to give you this," and Rena nosed the ribbon till the end came out, and pulled the end off with her teeth. She caught the handkerchief before it could fall. "She called it a token," she informed them with her mouth full. She spat the handkerchief out. "That tastes awful! How did Little Brother lick her _twice_?"

"Rena," and Rena bounced to attention, because one, it was her _name_ now, and two, the sister-one had such a gentle voice. "Did Lucy tell you anything else?"

Rena thought for a moment, running over everything Lucy had said. "She said she's ok!" she remembered, and blinked as all three of Lucy's family let out a lot of air.

"The people at your camp didn't hurt her?" That was the one who hadn't said much yet, and Rena shook her head.

"My Mother made her pack, and so they can't hurt Lucy without us fighting back, because she's family now," Rena said proudly. The one she was talking to made a funny noise, as if he had something caught in his throat, and the scary-frown one closed his eyes.

"Only Lucy," he muttered.

"She'd adopt a hungry Bear in his den if she accidently woke him in the dead of winter," said the gentle-voice one, but her voice wasn't that gentle anymore. More like Mother's when she came home and found Little Brother reorganizing the den or Big Brother wrestling.

"Majesties," and the Centaur sounded a little funny, because now _he_ sounded like Mother when she wanted them to line up and listen. And it _worked_. All three funny-furred Lucy's-family people sat straight up and didn't say a word. Rena started laughing, but quickly stopped when she heard a hoof stomp behind her. Maybe she shouldn't interrupt the Centaur. He seemed like a pack leader. "Perhaps we should ascertain who is coming to fight us, where the camp is, and what to expect next?"

The three looked at Rena again, who twisted—almost chasing her tail when she caught sight of it, but that wouldn't be smart right now, maybe—and looked up at the Centaur. Oreius, she remembered. Little Brother would be so proud of her for remembering!

"Well, a lot of Beasts are still at camp, so not many are looking for you. I think there's close to four paws ten times—that's how Little Brother taught me to count. Grukius probably sent out Birds and maybe the Werewolves, they're fast—I don't let them chase me, they're _too_ fast. I can show you the camp! Then you can come and help make sure no one hurts Lucy, which would make Mother happier, because she gets _mad_ if someone hurts her Cubs. Happier than Lucy made her, even! And I can find it for you. I can find it easily! It will be my second hunt!" Rena bounced again on all four paws at the idea. "Oh, wait, you wanted one more thing. What was it? What was it? Oh, I remember!" she answered before Oreius could interject. "You wanted to know what is going to happen, only you said it fancier than that. I don't know what's going to happen. Unless you want to go back to the camp. Then I know what will happen, because I can find it for you!"

"Quite," Oreius said, and Rena crouched a bit smaller at his voice. Sometimes when Mother sounded like that she was laughing inside, but sometimes she wasn't, and Rena didn't know if Oreius laughed inside yet. Oreius looked back at the Lucy's-family people. They were really tall when they were on horses. It'd be funny if Lucy was that tall. "Between the soldiers with you and the battalion with me, we should have enough to quell the Fell camp," Oreius said quietly. "But it would be best to wait till dark, for it is likely that the Fell creatures would regroup then, and we could destroy the camp and leave fewer survivors."

"But that would leave Lucy there longer," the gentle one objected, and the Centaur nodded.

"It appears she has protectors, and I do not intend to leave her unobserved while we are waiting, your Majesties. But in the end it must be your decision."

Rena looked at their faces; they were like Mother, when she thought one of the Cubs might be hurt. Rena always tried to help then; maybe she could help now too. "She won't get hurt," she piped up. "Mean old Grukius said she was Mother's as long as Mother got what he wanted—we heard him yell that all the way from the top of the hill. He's letting Mother keep her."

"Peter-" said the third one, and the scary one shook his head.

He didn't look scary anymore. He looked…really sad, and tired. "I know, Ed. We'll go there and make sure she's ok, and we'll get her out if we can. I promise. But Oreius makes a point too. Anyway, we can't make any concrete plans until we get there. So let's get there first. Rena," and he looked at _her_, and she really wanted to help him, to make him less tired and sad, "can you show us a way back to your camp that no one else will take?"

Rena thought about that for a moment. Everyone was looking for _them_, and they probably wouldn't expect them to come closer. If she kept by the river it'd be harder to smell them—she'd used that trick before, to keep away from the nasty Werewolves. "This way!" Rena called and started loping towards it—and stopped very quickly, because the soldiers made a _lot_ of noise when they started coming after her. She turned to the—Peter, that was his name. "You all are too noisy," Rena told him, and the other short-furred one coughed in a funny way.

"We weren't quite ready to go," Peter said, and he sounded like he was explaining, so Rena nodded.

"When will you be ready to go?" Rena scratched at the dirt. Grown-ups did funny things like taking time to get ready to go. It made no sense, but a lot of the people in the camp did the same thing.

Peter looked around, checking first with the gentle one, and then with—that was probably his brother, wasn't it? Because it was Lucy's brother, so it would be Peter's brother too, like Little Brother was her brother _and_ Big Brother's brother. And then with Oreius. Wouldn't the pack leader be in front? Maybe there were _two_ pack leaders, like Grukius and Mother. Only Oreius was gentler than Grukius, _and_ he let Rena ride on his back. Rena liked Oreius better.

But Rena decided she liked Peter best.

"We're ready," Peter confirmed, and Rena turned around and loped off again. They were a bit slower, so she slowed down (see, Little Brother? I _am_ paying attention!), and they made _some_ noise, but Oreius seemed to make them able to be quieter. It was fun to listen to them be scared of him. Rena wondered why they found him scary.

It was easy to find the river; Rena had run up and down it many, many days. She slowed down (again, because they got noisier), and we went forward. She couldn't wait to show Mother, and Lucy, and Little Brother, and Big Brother. She was bringing more Pack! Good pack, who wouldn't hurt us. She was pretty sure of that already. Because they hadn't hurt anybody.

But she was too excited, the little Wolf Cub, and she missed something, till the Panther behind her hissed. She froze.

No one moved.

Everyone was too still! Rena turned her head—slowly, when the Panther hissed again. She saw Oreius, very slowly drawing a really, really big sword. When he had it out, he nodded to two Fauns, and the three of them crept into the woods.

Rena waited.

No one moved. Not even Rena. That was hard for her; but it must be part of learning to hunt, Rena told myself.

She told herself she wasn't scared.

But she didn't think Little Brother would have believed her, and she wondered if Big Brother would have been scared. She wished he was right beside her, right here. He was grumpy, but he always made sure nothing hurt her and Little Brother.

Her ears pricked up. What was that sound? She'd heard it before, it was—oh, that was the sound Grukius's sword made, when someone didn't make him happy, and Mother put them in the den, but they could still hear.

Oreius and the two Fauns came back, and Oreius's sword was red. Rena I looked down at the ground, a small whine escaping.

He was really strong. If he hurt people, he could be scary. Really, really scary.

A nose nudged her fur, and Rena turned to see the Wolf—she'd seen her from a distance, but the Wolf hadn't come close—but now she was really close.

"It's ok, Cub," she crooned. "We hunt, but you don't need to hunt. Run, Rena, run when you must. But you are too young to hunt, and we won't let you." Rena closed her eyes and leaned into the other Wolf. She was warm, like Mother, but softer, as if she groomed more. Mother rarely had time.

But she was taking care of me like Mother would. Rena opened my eyes. "Will Oreius hurt me?" the Cub asked, and her voice was smaller than she wanted it to be. But he was _scary_.

"No, little Cub—not unless you hurt Lucy or her family." The Wolf nudged her again. Rena thought about that, confused. Oreius had said he _wasn't_ family, but he _acted_ like he was. And Rena would hurt someone who hurt Lucy too, so that might make her Pack with Oreius.

So Oreius wouldn't hurt her.

Rena nuzzled the Wolf in thanks, and turned towards the camp again. Twice more the Panther or the Wolf hissed a halt—both stayed with her—and twice more Rena's new pack hunted. At the end, though, Rena stopped at the top of the hill and took a deep breath. Lucy had been here—she could smell it—and now they could see the camp.

Rena had finished her second hunt.

OOOOO

**Ok, I admit to needing help. I'm stumped on a name for the third Wolf Cub. I really, really want to use Raph (Raphael) because he has problems with his temper and wears red, but he didn't like that name at all, and now I don't know what to name him. I'd love some suggestions, please!**

Response to ak (Guest): I'm enjoying writing it too; it's quite fun. Thank you for the review!

Response to Anonymousme: we may have to agree to differ about throwing references to other (unwritten) events; they actually frustrate me a little bit in other fanfiction because I want to read the entire story! Unless they can be summed up in a few sentences, skilled enough to tell the story well in a short time. That's not a skill I have (hopefully just not _yet_; I'd like to learn it some day). I don't think Leo and Por will come into this story; I learned from writing Turtle's Tale that if I put too many characters in the story it's actually harder to invest in, and we've got four OCs, a villain, the four siblings, Orieus, and that's enough for my hands to hold, I'm afraid. But I've had two requests (including yours) to use them again, and I liked them, so yes, I should include them in future stories! They were fun to write. :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I have no idea what I'm doing and you can't stop me (to quote Pinterest quoting Tumbler quoting "every author ever"). But I'm not making any money from it, because it's not mine. **

**Beta'd by trustingHim17—thank you again!**

**A/N: I had **_**five reviews**_** on the last chapter, which is a first for me, I think. And I wanted to take a moment to say thank you, to those five, and everyone who has reviewed on this story. It's the best encouragement I can have to keep writing. Also, the suggested names I liked were Rolf (which means "wolf council"), Jasper, names from mythology, Troublesome Cub (well, accurate!), and so far nothing's clicked. I'm still open to suggestions if I finish writing this chapter and he doesn't have a name yet…which is possible. But did you know that the word for brother in Bosnian, Polish, and Croatian is "brat," at least according to one website? I'm chuckling. **

**A/N the second: This chapter will bounce around a bit. Please let me know if it interrupts the flow. Thank you.**

OOOOO

Socrates and his brother were gone for several hours. Lucy spent the time talking internally to Aslan, or thinking about Him, and then telling Ren about what she was doing, and why, and about Aslan Himself. Ren listened in wonder, and asked for more. Lucy spoke about every time she'd ever seen Him, and what He'd said, and what He'd done, and how He saved her family. Ren listened with her head on her paws, eyes closed, envisioning what Lucy described.

"Once you see Him there's not really any choice," Lucy finished thoughtfully. "You either love Him or you hate Him. Or sometimes you're scared of Him and learn to love Him."

Ren shook herself and lifted her head. "I feel like I've already met Him, just listening to you." She blinked, and turned her head towards the camp, ears pricking up. "More of that later, Lucy. My Cubs are returning." She slowly pulled up her lips in a Wolf grin. "Socrates is excited."

Lucy looked; moments later the Cubs streaked out from behind the tents, and Lucy tensed. But their mother stayed calm. Lucy, looking harder, realized that they were racing. Just like brothers, she thought, grinning. And maybe sisters too sometimes, remembering the times she'd raced Peter and Edmund. Especially that time before their picnic on the shore, when she had taken a shortcut through the water and won. It had been worth Susan's scolding for her wet clothes afterwards.

Both Cubs raced faster, faster, the older one pulling ahead by a nose, then a head, and then, reaching a few feet from his mother, stopped and sauntered forward. Lucy smiled. His sides were still heaving; for all his nonchalance, his brother had made him work.

"We're back, Mother," he announced. "Socrates wants to give you the numbers." He hesitated, then sat down on Ren's other side. Lucy sighed quietly. He still hadn't shown any sign of making her family like his siblings.

Socrates, who'd been a short length behind his brother, had tumbled over his front legs, somersaulted with a yip, and landed in a heap right in front of Ren. He stayed there, panting, then rolled over when she nudged him with one paw. He grinned from his upside-down position.

"I have a name now," he informed his mother.

"You do not," she said just as gravely. "Not till you make your report, my son." Socrates immediately rolled over and sat up alertly.

"There are nine Hags, twelve Satyrs, two Ogres, three Centaurs, eleven Toadstool short people, six Dryads, and two Minotaurs - the bad Grukius and his horrible lieutenant Volcren." He paused to breathe. "All seven Werewolves, three Dogs, that Fox who likes Volcren's way of doing things, and all the Crows are gone."

"Hunting," Ren murmured. She scowled, but then shook herself. "But you have earned your name," and she smiled down at him. "Socrates."

Socrates licked her face in excitement, then crouched and hurled himself at Lucy. She fell over backwards, surprised, and he began licking her face all over.

"Thank you for my name! Thank you for my name!"

"Enough, enough! You're welcome!" and Lucy shielded her face with one arm, but she was laughing. Socrates' welcome was so sweet with his brother on the other side, ignoring her.

Socrates rolled off of her but stayed pressed against her side. "I don't like Volcren," he confided. "He's scary than Grukius." His older brother snorted.

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

"Why is he scarier than Grukius?" Lucy asked curiously.

"He isn't," the red-clad Cub muttered, but Socrates rolled one eye over to look up at her.

"Grukius is stronger and bigger, and that's why Big Brother likes him more than Volcren. But Volcren is s_cary_ because he's smart. Very, very smart. If he ever comes we all hide, all three of us. And he's the one who scared Mom the most too, so there!" he shot at his brother. The bigger Cub rolled his eyes.

"_I'm_ not scared of him."

Socrates sighed. He turned to Lucy, willing to forget the whole argument in the face of something new. "We counted, Lucy. Now what?" Ren and the other Cub stilled, interested in her answer.

"Now we try to get those numbers to my brother," Lucy said. She sat back up, one hand still on Socrates' head, and looked up to the hills. "If we can find him."

* * *

Peter looked down at the camp. "Rena," he said quietly. The Wolf—the Cub?—trotted back and looked up at him, eager. "Are they waiting for you in the camp? Does anyone know where you went?"

She shook her head quickly. "No! I snuck away. Little Brother said I was supposed to be quiet while doing it, and I was! No one knows I went away!"

"Good." Peter looked back at the camp. "Go back to your family—your pack. Tell them, if _no one can hear you_, that we're here, ok?" Rena nodded, springing in a circle—but Peter's voice caught her before she could start. "Rena? Be careful."

"I'm fast," she told him cheerfully. "Don't worry."

"Be careful anyway," he sighed. She was gone, and Edmund and Susan pulled their horses up beside him, Orieus a small step away. "Have the Beasts with the best eyes follow her, Orieus. Find Lucy," Peter command quietly. "We need to keep them all safe."

* * *

"Now isn't that interesting," growled a voice from the trees behind them. All three Wolves whirled, growling, and Lucy stood quickly. She reached for her dagger but stopped when a huge black form walked menacingly towards them. It was Grukius.

"So you counted all the soldiers in the camp," he sneered. "And you were intending to tell the little kings? I would have thought you had more sense than that, Felvren." The Wolves growled, but Grukius ignored them, taking another step, then another. He towered over them, slipping his axe from the sheath on his back. Behind him others stalked forward as well—many of the camp, coming closer, closer, closer, eyes fixed on the group of four like prey. At the front were two Hags and another, smaller Minotaur. Grukius ignored them, eyes fixed on Lucy. His lieutenant, Volcren, stared as well.

"The Hags heard you, Felvren," the general sneered. "You said the name of the little C_at_ our Queen killed, and you said it like one of His own. And here we find you, counting our troops and looking for the cat's kings. Why, Wolf? Did you meet this Daughter of Eve and think you could leave? You are _ours_, even as your Cubs are yours. This tiny thing is not worth your lives."

"Such a small thing to fight over," the smaller Minotaur commented softly, and Lucy shuddered but stood straight. His voice was as smooth as Grukius' was gravelly. "What little eyes you have, and little hands; a little, soft thing with no teeth, no _bite_. Would you trade your pack, your _children_, for a little thing such as this, Felvren?"

"_She. Is. Pack_," Ren growled back, and Volcren bared his own teeth.

"Now that is very interesting." His eyes flicked back to Lucy. "She must have a great ability to make people love her, to win you over so quickly."

"To make them traitors," Grukius growled. He swung his axe, whistling it, burying it beside the group he towered over. "But even traitors can be useful."

* * *

"Your Majesties!" Ferela ran, panting, through the horse legs, her whisper fierce with terror. "We lost Rena in the tents; we can't see her any longer. But we found Lucy."

"_Where?_" Peter, Edmund, Susan all chorused.

"She stands with three Wolves, facing down the Minotaur leader and a third of the camp," and Ferela's voice broke. "I think the Wolves were discovered, King Peter."

"Then we go," Edmund whispered determinedly, and Peter nodded.

"Susan, take the archers to the hills. Orieus, you and Edmund go left; try to surround them. Selyte, Sethen, and you, Captain, your task is to rescue my sister. Get in, get her out, and the Wolves as well, if you can."

Susan swung off without a word, fading into the trees. "Aslan go with us all," Peter murmured, and drew his horse to the right. Softly, softly, but oh, Aslan, give us speed! His sister was facing down a camp of Fell with just three Wolves at her side.

* * *

The oldest Cub sprang aside, away from the axe; Grukius looked at him approvingly, but turned back to the Cub's mother. "They could be warriors." He hefted his axe up, up, out of the ground and up to his great height again. "All three of them, with a larger pack, their _father's_ pack. With the power their father had, never to be hurt again. Your son would already choose us. You know it. Your choice could tear your family apart. So, Felvren, think carefully. Aslan or us?"

Felvren stood, legs braced, but Lucy could see the minute trembling in her fur. "Aslan," she said softly, a plea, a prayer—but an answer.

Grukius laughed. "Are you certain, Wolf? Think. You choose Aslan, and what will He do for you? He left you to our mercy before. He will again. You will die without ever seeing Him, and we will have His Daughter of Eve anyway. If He cannot save _her_, He certainly won't save you. Even if you fight, what's the use? Though it cost us a few soldiers, we _will_ have her; and then the kingdom. Aslan or us?"

"Aslan," Ren said, more clearly, lifting her head. "I am His, and I cannot take that choice back."

"Even if He took all you hold dear?" It was the lieutenant, Volcren, his voice slipping from behind his leader like a snake. "You have three Cubs, do you not, Felvren? Three? Yet only two stand beside you. Where is the third? Do you know?" Ren's breath slipped out, gasping, and Lucy stiffened. Rena. Rena had never come back; surely, surely, they didn't have her?

"You risk everything," Grukius growled, snarling his mouth into a smile as he saw Ren tremble. "Would you risk your Cub as well?" He reached down and snatched Socrates by the scruff; Ren leaped forward, snarling, but Grukius held him out of reach, kicking the Wolf aside with one leg. Ren landed growling, turning swiftly, but then she froze. Grukius was rubbing the blade of his axe along Socrates' neck; her remaining Cub looked at his mother and whimpered. "I have this one. We have the girl. The oldest is already ours. You see them, Wolf. Would you risk _them_, all of them?"

Ren trembled, closing her eyes, and Lucy ran forward and threw an arm around her neck; she felt the oldest Cub at her heels, racing towards his mother. "Be brave, Ren, please," she pleaded. Tears fell from the Wolf's eyes. "Please, you _know_ being a coward only leads bad choices, _please_, Ren!"

"I choose Aslan!" Ren cried, still trembling. "My Cubs are His! I choose Aslan!"

A Lion's roar filled the clearing, swallowing up the smaller roar of Grukius, dwarfing it, and the evil crowd screamed and cowered, covering their ears with their hands. From the hills above them, the sound lost amid the roar, there poured arrows, plunging into Aslan's enemies and laying many low. One flew over Lucy's head, right into Grukius's throat, and the huge Minotaur toppled, eyes wide with surprise. Lucy wrenched her gaze towards the hill, for the feathers on the end marked the arrow as Susan's.

"Socrates!" Ren and the Cub cried, bounding forward; Ren snatched up Socrates in her mouth, spun, and led them right back to Lucy before Lucy could blink.

"For Narnia, and for Aslan!" roared voices from her right, and from the trees swept a line of Narnians, Peter in the lead, galloping right for her and the Wolves. The cry echoed to her left, and there was Edmund! Edmund, and Orieus, and her two Panther friends, bounding forward! Lucy grinned, crouching and reaching for her dagger, dragging Socrates with her, pushing herself into Ren.

"Form a circle!" she cried, remembering Orieus' lessons, and the Wolves leaped, Socrates on one side, his older brother on the other, their mother pushing against Lucy's back.

Her hand almost had her dagger—almost, it was stuck in the hem—when a huge hand clutched around her neck, yanking her away from the Wolves.

"Hold!" a Minotaur's voice bellowed. "Hold, soldiers of the Lion!" He held a blade to Lucy's throat. "Hold or the Daughter of Eve dies!"

OOOOO

**A/N: I'm pretty sure this is what Anonymousme calls an evil ending. I'm trying to post the next chapter tomorrow, I promise! Thanks to SouthwestExpat for the idea of Susan killing an unsuspecting Grukius with an arrow. :)**

**Response to Anonymousme: I'm really glad you liked Ferela and Rena. I tried to add a bit of sibling arguing and Socrates' antics to make this a bit more humorous, but I admit it's harder to do that at the end when the tension builds so high. But I'm trying. It's not something I've really done before. This story was meant to help me practice foreshadowing, humor, and battle scenes. We'll see how it turns out. Thank you for reviewing!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: as an alliterating aspiring author, all is against my acquiring authority of this allegory.**

**Beta'd by trustingHim17, with my thanks and sigh of relief. She also came up with the second half of the above. :)**

OOOOO

Edmund halted, one hand pulling the reins. He ripped his sword out of a Hag, letting her fall to the ground, and looked around quietly. Peter and Oreius were fixed on Lucy—Lucy, her breath coming short as the huge black hand held her back against the Fell Beast. He looked away quickly; he couldn't think of that now. _Wouldn't_ think of the way her hand was scrabbling at the hem of her dress; Lucy, _scared_. Three Wolves were a hands-length away, crouched, their eyes on the blade—but Edmund would bet the Minotaur was too quick for them to jump. Someone would have get behind him. Edmund shifted, and the Minotaur's eyes flicked to him. Peter's, too, and Edmund heard Peter's horse trot forward.

Peter, who read what Edmund wanted from a mere glance, acted on it. The High King spoke, regaining the monster's attention. "What do you want?"

The Minotaur laughed. "Such a little, little thing, to be loved so much. How much do you love her, High King? Enough to save her life?" Edmund, quietly shifting his weight to one stirrup, froze when he heard Lucy's soft sound of pain.

No. Don't look. Don't lose focus.

A little more. Tune out the conversation. Tune out the sounds. Make no sound at all. Lift, clear of the stirrup; wait, wait, the horse felt the stirrup hit it. Quiet. Quiet the horse. Glance at the Minotaur; he's still looking at Peter. And Oreius, who looks ready to kill the instant the Minotaur lets Lucy go.

But he wouldn't let her go. Edmund knew it. Quietly, he slid his leg over the back of the horse, both legs on one side. Hands caught him, lifted him clear, and set him down; the Centaur who had been guarding him, who'd caught on to his intent. Salyte and Sethen slipped up beside him, soundlessly, then faded back with him as he walked backwards. He turned to Sethen.

"Go tell the Queen to have her bow ready," he commanded in a whisper. He would trust Lucy's safety to no other archer; Susan had been gifted beyond any other archer they had. "When I'm close enough to grab the blade, have her shoot." Sethen nodded, then slipped away soundlessly. Edmund nodded at Salyte, keeping his sword out, and circled through the trees, the Panther warning him with a low hiss if they went near any hiding Fell Creatures. Quickly, quietly, Edmund crept through the woods. The trees ended and he dropped to the grass, crawling forward with his sword hilt clenched in his hand to keep it off the ground, upside down so it lay by his side, just as he'd been taught. He could do this. He _had_ to do this; it was Lucy.

But he wasn't doing it alone. Peter, voice tight, was challenging the Minotaur's ideas of his own kingdom, and how they would trust the Fell to keep his word. Refuting the Minotaur, keeping it arguing, without making him so angry he'd want to hurt his hostage. Good, Peter, keep going, he thought. I'm almost there. Almost.

Edmund froze as Salyte hissed again. But her hiss changed, and her nose brushed his ear. "Wolf," she breathed. "The Wolf Cub."

Rena? Edmund raised his head, so slowly, and saw her. She was in front of them, low in the grass, eyes fixed in front of her (not aware of anything behind, the foolish Cub), and she was creeping forward.

He couldn't grab her; she'd yelp, and they'd all be given away.

"Go round and thop* her," Edmund commanded, and the Panther instantly slunk forward, faster than the Wolf, and cut her off. Edmund heard the whispered argument carried on the breeze, Rena fiercely saying _pack_, and he prayed the sound would be lost in the rising debate.

The loud, raging debate; he didn't have much time. He crawled forward again. He could hear the Minotaur, mocking, but no sound from Lucy; he was close now, so close. He clenched his fingers around his sword; now he had to rise. By Aslan, he hoped the Minotaur didn't hear him. He took a breath-

And the Minotaur bellowed loudly in pain, throwing his head back. Edmund could see the horns, tossing as the Fell roared his pain. Edmund lunged to his feet, reaching for the blade at his sister's neck, only to see Lucy's dagger thrust through the wrist of the same hand.** The Minotaur roared again, jumping on one leg; Edmund saw white teeth fastened around the other. The Creature thrust his bleeding hand down, digging his blade into the Wolf snapping his ankle, and reaching for Lucy with the other hand. Edmund ran him through the same instant an arrow sang through the air, sinking into the exposed throat.

The King lunged forward, dragging Lucy back to him and whirling her behind; she pushed past him, grabbing her dagger from the dead Minotaur's wrist, and set herself against his back. In front of them the Fell Creatures and Narnians met in battle once more; the screams, clangs, and growls filling the air. The largest Wolf bounded to Edmund's side, turning and snapping at the Fell Creatures in front of them; the other Wolf, with a red handkerchief around his neck, ran to the stabbed one. Rena bounded up from behind them, setting herself beside the Wolf near Edmund, and Salyte appeared on his other side.

"Rena! You're safe! Rena!"*** chorused Edmund's sister and the Wolf, and Rena yipped, licking the Wolf's muzzle.

"Eyes front!" Edmund snapped. The Fell Creatures hadn't come near where the Minotaur had dragged them yet, but if one broke through - they weren't getting to his sister again. "Not you, Lu!" he corrected in exasperation. "You've got my back."

"Rena, you've mine," the biggest Wolf growled; Rena obeyed in one swift movement.

"Forward to the wounded," Edmund ordered, eyes still on the battle, watching as Fell after Fell who turned to them fell to the arrows from the hill above. Susan wasn't letting anything near Lucy either. The biggest Wolf whimpered, looking at the one lying panting on the grass, his blue bag gradually turning red. The other Wolf near him was licking his wound over and over, trying to close it; Edmund moved the group quickly, past the wounded Wolf, till Lucy was near him; Edmund heard her drop to her knees.

"It's ok, Socrates," she soothed, and Edmund nearly dropped his sword. He vaguely remembered that name from the Other Place; why was there a Wolf named Socrates?

Battle. Battle first. Questions later.

"Protect you," Socrates panted. "Protect _pack_. Just like Big Brother," and the other Wolf whined.

"You did, you did. Let me see." There was silence behind; in front, the sounds of battle were dying as the Narnians slowly won. Oreius cut down any Fell creature behind or to the side of Peter, Edmund saw with relief. And Susan's arrows were still coming. She was safe, and Lucy crouched behind him. Maybe, maybe after tonight, they would _all_ be safe.

"Mother," growled a voice; the Wolf who had not spoken, who had run to the side of the wounded one. The largest Wolf by Edmund's side glanced back at the voice. "Mother, I-"

A choked-off whine from the wounded Wolf interrupted. "I'm sorry." Lucy's voice was grave. "I will make it all better, I _promise_. But I have to pull this out first. And it's going to hurt. Can you be brave, Socrates?"

Another whine, and Edmund glanced down at the Wolf twitching beside him. "There's no one coming near us; go to him," he ordered, and the Wolf bowed her head for a single second in thanks before rushing to her son's side. Edmund looked back to the battle, tensing as a Werewolf began to run near-

Only to fall to an arrow a moment later. Lucy hadn't even noticed.

"I'm getting my cordial, Ren. I'll heal him in just a moment," Edmund heard his sister promise. He itched to look behind him; but he had to keep his sister safe, for now. The fighting was in small knots and would not last much longer. He heard Lucy's dress rustle.

"Mother," he heard the first Wolf say again. "Mother, I - I failed my first hunt." There was a moment of silence."I meant - my first hunt was this battle. I needed to keep the pack, our pack, safe. And Socrates-" he broke off in a whine. "Grukius tried to _hurt_ him!"

"There will be other hunts," the mother sounded like her attention was only half on her trembling son. "I'll train you for them now. Easy, Socrates, easy - we're almost ready."

"I'm taking it out now," Lucy's voice warned, and Edmund heard a yelp of intense pain. "Here, here, take this-" and the yelp stopped in a choke.

"Mother," the failed Wolf said in wonder.

"Mother, he's better!" And that was Rena's voice, light and high.

"Socrates," the mother breathed, and Edmund heard another yip. "If you _ever_," she growled a moment later, "attack something that _big_ and that _deadly_ before you're properly trained, I'll, I'll confine you to the Tree for waking and waning of one moon!"

"But he had _Lucy_," Socrates whined, and Edmund privately agreed with him. He glanced all around the quiet battlefield; no more Fell were left that he could see, and he sheathed his sword, swinging around.

"_Lucy_," Edmund called, and Lucy looked up at him from kneeling on the grass, cordial still in one hand, dagger on the grass beside her. Edmund reached down and grabbed her, pulling her up and into a hug, and she hugged him back just as tightly, little arms around his waist. Edmund breathed out. She was safe. He could believe it now. He had her _right here_. He pushed her back a moment later. "If you _ever_," he choked, "get kidnapped again, I'm putting you in whatever Tree that was with the Wolf."

"Lucy! Lucy!" they heard across the battlefield, and both turned towards Peter, thundering towards them on his horse, then swinging down and striding forward. He didn't bother moving her away from Edmund, sweeping both up into his biggest, tightest hug. "You are not allowed to leave Cair Paravel for a month," Peter informed the top of Lucy's head.

"Peter!" Lucy protested.

"You're right. Two months. Maybe three."

"I'm going out to talk to the Mermaids as soon as I get home," Lucy retorted. Peter's response was only to hug her tighter.

"Oi!" Edmund protested. "Don't bruise me because she's being difficult!"

"Lucy!" called a voice from the trees, and the two younger rulers twisted their heads in time to see Susan racing from the trees. Peter hugged them tighter, then let her go, and Lucy tore off towards her sister, meeting her halfway and hugging her back.

"She's fine, right?" Peter asked Edmund quietly, and Edmund ran a hand over his face.

"She stabbed her own kidnapper." Edmund sighed. "While he held a blade to her neck."

"And she still walked away unscathed, thank Aslan." Peter shook his head.

"She's fine other than that," Edmund added. "Far as I can tell."

"And we've got her back." The two watched as she shook herself free of Susan and ran back towards the battle, running towards the closest Narnian soldier lying on the ground, Susan a mere step behind. Oreius, who had silently come up behind the kings, listening to their conversation, went to escort her to each one.

"Come on," Peter said. "I don't feel like being this far away from her yet."

It didn't take long for Lucy to heal the severely wounded; the Narnians had outnumbered their foes almost three to one. Lucy pointed out that might have been a bit excessive while she bandaged a sword-cut on a Faun's arm, and Susan, cleaning blood off a Dog's head, retorted that it was a perfectly reasonable number if a Queen was kidnapped. Peter and Edmund, staying close to their sisters, quietly took command of setting up a camp not far from the battle, at the top of the hill - out of the Fell camp, but close enough the wounded could make it there easily. Oreius didn't leave, not even to oversee the new camp.

"There," Susan sighed, wringing out the cloth she'd been using. "I think that's everyone."

"Good," Edmund yawned. "It's time for bed, anyway. I'll be the one to say it this time."

"Oh, no, not quite yet!" The other three looked at Lucy.

"Lucy, it's _late_," Susan began, but Lucy interrupted.

"No, you have to meet my kidnapper first!" Lucy turned, looking over the battlefield. The family of Wolves were just outside the place the wounded had gathered, and she rushed over to them, stopping by the largest one - the mother, Edmund remembered. "Peter, Susan, Edmund, this is Ren. She's my new friend."

OOOOO

*In _The Last Battle_ Lewis has Jill whisper "th" instead of "s" because the sound carries less. I'm copying.

**At one point in one conversation (I am sorry to say I do not remember which), trustingHim17 pointed out that Lucy is quite capable of defending herself (she did ride to battle in _The Horse and His Boy_), and I wanted to include that here; credit to trustingHim17 for the idea!

***In case it wasn't clear, the Fell never had Rena. Volcren was lying, betting Ren didn't know exactly where Rena was since Rena hadn't showed herself.

**Response to Anonymousme: I'm glad for that coincidence; things like that make birthdays more fun. Oreius was saying "Quite,"—I've a rather dry sense of humor and it comes out in my characters in unexpected places. Socrates is an odd name for Narnia—or even for any English-speaking country, but he liked it, and I liked it for him as a character—someone who loved learning. In juggling a cast of characters: purely for the sake of discussion, because I enjoy discussions like this, and **_**not**_** for the sake of arguing: I think universes can actually have a large cast of characters (G. R. R. Martin has, I've heard, created enough to fill a small country) or, like Lewis himself, actually not have that many. **_**The Silver Chair**_** has a few at the beginning, strange sights along the way but not that many individual characters, and a few at the end. There were only eight (seven, after Susan left) main friends of Narnia over the course of seven books; you could feet all the individual characters in those seven books in one medium-sized church. But I'm glad Turtles read smoothly; by the end I had nine in the fellowship of the raft, seven lords, one wife, three children, and that was too many for me! But maybe I'll get better over time. :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: To the lawyers, paycheck-makers, and filers of copyrights, I acknowledge ownership is not mine. To everyone else, I hold these (fictional) people close and whisper, "My precious."**

**A/N: Readers, during Saturday and Sunday I had **_**twelve**_** reviews. That leaves me speechless. The only thing that comes to mind is **_**thank you**_**, and I hope you know how much I mean it! It's wonderful to be writing a story where people input so much!**

OOOOO

"Lucy." Susan's voice was strained (it had, after all, been a long day for her). "Do you mean-" and Susan broke off, looking from Lucy to her brothers helplessly.

"You're introducing your kidnapper as your friend?" Peter asked, and Lucy nodded. He rubbed his temple with his free hand, trying to stave off a headache.

"Your Majesties," interjected Oreius' deep voice, "perhaps this would be better settled at the camp, over dinner."

"Right," Peter said tiredly. He turned, saw Oreius holding out his horse's reins as well as Edmund's, and gratefully took them. Peter swung up and held his hand out to Lucy. He swung her up behind him as she took it. Once he had her settled—and safe—he looked down at the family of Wolves. The mother stood in front, legs braced defensively. "Come to the camp," he commanded. "We'll sort you out there."

"It will be okay," Lucy coaxed from behind her brother. "We'll tell them everything and then they'll understand. Aslan brought all your children back, Ren, and He'll take care of you now." Peter waited till he was sure his sister finished speaking, then wheeled his horse around and headed to their camp, Edmund (with Susan mounted behind him) falling into step beside them.

Lucy wound her arms around Peter's waist. "Please don't be angry with her," she began.

"Not till after supper," Edmund broke in shortly. "Come on, Lu," he said more patiently. "You really don't want to try to cajole us into anything when we're grumpy because of our empty stomachs, do you?" Lucy pouted.

"I can feel you pouting, though I'm not looking at you," Peter warned, ducking his head to avoid a tall branch that passed right over Lucy's head. "Give us some time, my sister. Time to know you're back, and safe."

"It would help us remember mercy more if we are certain of that fact," Susan pointed out gently. She held Edmund more firmly as they started up the hill. "And though she is your friend, she did what is against both law and what is right, and that will have to be dealt with."

"_After_ supper," Edmund added, pulling his horse to the right a little to avoid a tree.

Lucy sighed, nodding. Her siblings were right—it had just been different, these past few days, when she was the only one making the decisions. But she _was_ hungry. She held Peter more tightly, remembering why they were hungry: the foes and the fear they'd battled during the past few days. "Are any of you hurt?" she asked anxiously, the idea just occurring.

"Scratches," Edmund called, his voice blending with Susan's negative answer.

"Scratches, Ed?" Peter inquired severely, turning his head to look at his brother as he drew the horse to a halt.

"Just scratches," Edmund promised. "But yes, I'll have a healer look at them, and no, I won't go looking for trouble till they're healed, and yes, I'm quite certain I'm alright. Did I cover everything?" Peter laughed softly, as if being loud was too much energy at the moment. Edmund swung down and held his arms out to Susan, setting her gently on the ground as Peter did the same to Lucy. "But I notice you did not answer the question yourself, High King. Are you injured?"

"A cut on my arm that will need a bandage and nothing more," Peter replied. "Lucy, you are not to use your cordial," he added sternly, seeing his sister's hand go to her belt.

"But you got hurt saving _me_," Lucy protested; she hated that thought.

"And that was our privilege, my sister, and always will be, as your brother and your King." Peter unbent a little, reaching into his own belt to take something out—the handkerchief Rena had delivered and had spat out on the ground when she tasted it for the first time. One of the soldiers had picked it up and given to Peter. "But perhaps you would be kind enough to help me heal in other ways?"

Lucy accepted her property with all the dignity of a Queen, and, turning, led the way into the camp, heading for the fire the soldiers had kindled in the middle. Several soldiers hastily stood, making room for the Four—and how glad three of the were that there were four once more!—on the logs that had been laid out as seats, ringing the fire in gradually larger circles. Lucy thanked them, smiling and reaching out to touch the ones she knew personally. Susan pulled Edmund towards the healers tent, nodding at Peter to let him know she'd make sure Edmund really was alright, and Lucy and Peter sat down so Lucy could clean and bandage the cut on Peter's forearm, short but painful. By the time Edmund and Susan reappeared and Lucy's work was done, Oreius appeared at the edge of the circle, bearing two bowls of stew. Following the General was a Faun, also bearing two bowls; the two served their rulers and Oreius stayed to make sure the Four ate, especially Lucy, who had begun calling greetings to the other soldiers around the fire. When the siblings' spoons scrapped the bottom of the bowls, Oreius handed the empty vessels to a nearby soldier and bowed.

"There is still the matter of the Wolf family, Your Majesties," he said gravely. The soldiers around the fire stilled.

"Have they been taken care of?" Lucy asked, looking up quickly.

"They ate with Ferela and the Black Panthers, and have been made comfortable," Oreius reported, and Lucy relaxed.

"Send for them," Peter commanded quietly. Oreius left at once, hooves silent on the grass. Peter looked at Edmund.

"More my area than yours," Edmund agreed. He stood, walking in front of the fire, facing the way Oreius had left. The other three folded their hands and sat, waiting as well. Susan put her arm over Lucy's shoulder when she saw how tightly the younger Queen's hands were twisted on her lap.

Oreius did not take long. He entered the circle closest to the fire, bowed to Edmund, then to the other three, and walked to stand behind them. Ren and her three Cubs waited where Oreius had bowed.

"Did your three children know of your actions to kidnap a Queen of Narnia?" Edmund began, and Ren shook her head.

"No," she said in a low voice, and Edmund looked to Lucy for confirmation. Lucy also shook her head.

"Then they are welcome to our land, and free from the judgement of this court. We do not condemn children for the actions of their parents." At his words Ren closed her eyes, and Lucy held out her hand to the Cubs, beckoning them closer.

But the Red Cub stiffened, a low growl slipping out before he cut it off quickly. "I stand with my mother," he retorted.

"Me too," Socrates added, and Rena nodded in agreement, nestling closer to her mother. If Edmund felt like smiling (like Lucy and Susan did) it didn't show on his face.

"Then you may stay as you are," Edmund allowed. "What is your name, Wolf of Narnia, and do you know the crime of which you stand accused?"

"Ren," the Wolf responded, opening her eyes. "I kidnapped Lu—Queen Lucy, and brought her to the Fell Camp, turning her over to the Beasts who meant her harm."

"But-" Lucy interrupted, only to pause as Peter put his hand on her arm.

"Trust Edmund," Peter whispered. "Remember, he of all of us knows the most of mercy."

"You admit you kidnapped her and took her to her enemies?" Edmund, focused on Ren, was oblivious of his siblings.

"Yes," Ren admitted, sinking closer to the grass.

"Then by your own admission, you are guilty. But we rule by Aslan's will, and Aslan bids justice be mixed with mercy. Mercy is always underserved, but may be given freely to the repentant. Ren of Narnia, in this informal court we seek to find you, not innocent or guilty, but hardened or unrepentant. We seek to know if your interests lie with the Fell, or with the Son of the Emperor-Over-the-Sea, Aslan Himself. We begin at the beginning of your fall. Did you help the Fell because you sought to further their cause, or for some other reason?"

"I-," Ren broke off, looking at the ground, hope in her eyes and fear bristling in her fur.

"They had us," Socrates piped up, stepping forward till he stood closer to Edmund than his mother.

"Socrates-"

"Telling the truth only makes sense," Socrates informed his mother calmly.

"But you are _welcomed here_ now," Ren whispered desperately. In the silence around the campfire, all heard her anyway. "I cannot do anything to change that, Socrates. Your safety is all I've ever fought for; you have it now. Leave it be—it's what I've always wanted."

"No." Socrates looked from his mother to Edmund, and then turned to face his mother fully. "He said we won't be judged for the sins of our parents. It won't matter to them. He _said_ so."

"But-"

"It did not matter to me," Lucy reminded Ren, standing. Ren looked back, desperation in her cringing stance. "Tell them, Ren. The whole truth. You were brave before; be brave again."

Ren turned back to Edmund, holding his gaze, measuring him. Edmund waited patiently. His gaze did not falter, and he did not demand anything. He waited. At last Ren bowed her head.

"The Fell had my Cubs," she reported dully. "When I first met Queen Lucy, I tried to turn her back. But she was intent on going onwards-"

"_Lucy_," two fierce whispers chorused behind her, but Lucy ignored them, trying to give Ren strength to continue.

"-and I knew if any other Fell Creature met the Queen and found out I had not taken her and turned her over, I and my Cubs would die."

"My sister is unharmed," Edmund put in, eyes still fixed on Ren.

"Thank Aslan," Susan murmured.

"Did you accomplish that?"

"I and my Cubs," Ren replied softly. "During our journey here Lucy had made herself my Pack—my family. I was bound to protect her as I do my Cubs."

"And Aslan bound me to stay with her," Lucy added, and Edmund flashed her a look. Lucy knew he'd be asking about that later; all three of her siblings would.

"And you stood with her against the camp, when they came to take her," Edmund finished, and Ren nodded. "There is merit in that, Ren. More than enough to make me believe you no longer give your allegiance to the Fell. And because of your actions we offer you mercy. Know this," Edmund said more softly, "that we give you mercy not because your actions deserve it, but because Aslan commanded it, and all the repentant may demand it because it is His decree. I therefore declare-"

"That is not all," Ren stopped him. "There is—there is more." She growled helplessly. "I—I have not told you why were at the Fell Camp." Again Edmund waited. His patience was wonderful, Lucy thought. It helped Ren be brave. "My—my husband—he was known to the Fell. When he was young, when I was young, he—he forced me to be his wife. Aslan—I could not find Him, _He didn't_ _rescue me_, I didn't know what to do. And we had our Cubs, and he—he left for the Witch's castle. After—after she was gone, I tried, I _tried_, to keep us separate," she begged. "But I ran out of places to hide, and I had—I had to choose. He—my husband had been too high up, and I did not think I could go to—to you, and I went to them." She closed her eyes. "Please don't judge them for their father's fault," she whispered. "Please don't judge them for the sins of Maugrim."

Ferela leaped to her feet, growling; Lucy looked towards her in surprise.

Edmund frowned in confusion, his eyes still on Ren. "Who is Maugrim?" he asked.

"It was the birth name of Fenris Ulf," Ferela snarled from the side. "He changed it, and the name of his wife, _Felvren_, when he won the place of the White Witch's chief of the secret police."

Peter sucked in a breath, but his reaction and Edmund's were drowned out by Susan's words. "I am so sorry," she said, rising and going to the Wolf. She knelt by Ren's side, her hands stroking the Wolf's fur. "I am so sorry, Ren. No one should be forced into marriage; to be so forced is a form of slavery." Ren opened her eyes, looking towards the Gentle Queen kneeling by her side, and began to cry.

"I couldn't help it! I couldn't, he was so strong, and so fast, and I was so scared! I've been so scared, for so long, and it hurts, it hurts so much," she sobbed. Susan wrapped strong, gentle arms around her, and the three Cubs crowded close, whining. "Why didn't Aslan answer me? _Why?_" Ren pleaded. The camp was silent.

"I cannot answer for Aslan," Edmund said at last. "Your question only He can answer, and He will, when you finally meet Him. But Ren," and he waited for Ren's eyes to meet his, "I do know that He always brings good out of evil. He gave you your beloved cubs, and you were here to save my sister, when she had no other help near." He stepped forward, and knelt in front of Ren, his hands holding her head while Susan hugged her neck. "I am sorry for your suffering," he said quietly. "It is my judgement that your mistakes brought their own misery, and that, added to your suffering, is more than sufficient punishment. You have repented, and fought for the side of Aslan, and therefore Aslan's side shows you mercy. Come and be His, Ren," Edmund offered in his grave, serious voice. "Come back to Cair Paravel with us, and learn what it is to be His."

Ren, her tears ceasing, looked at him in wonder. "I may still have a home with you?" she questioned, struggling to believe, and Edmund smiled.

"You would be welcome," he told her, getting to his feet. He extended a hand to Susan, who rose gracefully; Lucy and Peter came to stand with them.

"You _all_ would be welcome," Peter added. "There are many places in our guard or in our household that would welcome the presence of a Wolf, and her Cubs. And I give you my word none shall hold this against you," he added, looking around at the soldiers. Ferela slowly sank back to the ground.

"We should go, Mother, because we're Pack," Rena piped up. "Pack to Lucy, which means _you_ and _you_ and _you_ are Pack as well," she added, looking at each of Lucy's siblings. "But not him, because he said he wasn't pack," she said, peering through the three of them to look back at Oreius.

"What?" Lucy couldn't tell how many of them had asked, but Rena answered them all anyway.

"I asked if he was your Pack, and he said no," she told them. Lucy, looking at her siblings, knew they all thought that…wasn't quite right. Oreius was as close as family to all of them, their protector and often their counselor. She looked back at the Centaur; his tail was twitching uneasily, but he'd crossed his arms, refusing to take what he said back.

"He's wrong," Lucy informed Rena, walking forward. She climbed up on the log and hugged Oreius, ducking her head beneath his crossed arms. "In Narnia, we're _all_ family," she told Rena over her shoulder. She heard Oreius' low rumble, and his arms uncrossed and gently hugged her back.

"That is one reason we are so blessed by Aslan to have you, Queen Lucy," he conceded. "Now all that's left is to get this very large, very troublesome _Pack_ back to Cair Paravel."

OOOOO

**A/N: The idea of clarifying that Maugrim and Fenris are the same person was the idea of ****Anonymous, and SouthwestExpat was very kind in helping me clarify how to portray mercy, not as something we deserve, but something we can demand, because it's been promised to us. Hopefully that came across as well as she showed it to me! She also helped me rewrite Edmund's reply to Ren when Ren questions why Aslan didn't save her before. My thanks! This was also beta'd by trustingHim17, so there's three people to thank in addition to me for this chapter. :)**

**Response to ak: the review itself was a wonderful thank-you; the quote a lovely addition. Another quote I've loved about worry is: "Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrows, it empties today of its strength." Corrie Ten Boom. I'm so glad you're enjoying the story; thank you for letting me know you were!**

**Response to Namw: I admit, I hadn't planned on a sibling fight; there might (I'm still working on the details of the rest of the story) be a chance for one at one point—I'll see if I can work it in? I'm sorry to say I can't make promises until it's actually written, though—I'm one of the authors whose work tends to get away from them. Thank you for your review!**

**Response to Anonymousme: The average number of reviews per chapter is actually three; last time there were actually six, but I counted your two reviews once. :) The Red Cub hadn't made up his mind about which side he was on yet, so if you were confused, it was because he was. That's one of the storylines I'm wrestling to an ending that **_**isn't**_** behaving. This story is drawing to a close (only a few more chapters left, I think), and I admit it's one of my better stories, which I find funny, because just because I think it might be better doesn't mean it's one of my favorites. I'll fix the mistakes you found; thank you for pointing them out! I'm glad you liked the mention of Lucy racing her brothers; I thought it a short story I could sum in a few sentences, and something you'd asked for. As for the sense of humor, I've been told I'd watched and read too much British humor, so yes, mine tends to be very dry—or morbid, but I try not to let out into my stories unless it's a spooky one! I'm so glad you're enjoying it. Classical is one of the genres I listen to, but I must either be in the right mood or my grandparents must be in town. :) For your idea for a sequel—I'd recommend keeping it. Not because I think it's not worth writing, but mainly because it sounds like it's already much clearer in your head than mine; I think it's **_**your **_**story, is what I mean, much more than mine. Put it in a document (you can copy what you left in the reviews), and some day when you can, open it and write it. I didn't begin writing fanfiction till I had my Masters degree and then had spent two years overseas, so you've time. I am planning on clarifying the Maugrim/Fenris name, and no, they're definitely not two different people! That'd be a headache in the making, and one I'd rather avoid. I'm not sure when that will be clarified; I suppose I'd better go write the chapter and find out, especially since replying to lovely, wonderful reviews has now taken up almost a full page! :) (So, apparently, that was clarified in this chapter. That's what I get for writing the responses first!)**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: Well, since apparently "my precious" is also something I have no rights to, I now declare all Narnians my kith and kin.  
****And it never goes very well when I try to claim kin as something I own (the objections become both vociferous and manifold), and the Narnian kin have weapons.**

**A/N: This is, I think, the last chapter.  
****I should stop writing these **_**before **_**writing**** the chapter.  
****Because I wrote it and I proved myself wrong, there's going to be one more, but I'll leave this here anyway, because I like it and I still mean it.  
****This is, I think, the last chapter. My very grateful thanks to anyone who favorited, reviewed, and followed the story, and my special thanks to trustingHim17, who beta'd it, and SouthwestExpat, who willingly bounced my ideas back to me better than when I threw them her way. **

OOOOO

They did not leave for Cair Paravel directly. They rested the night, Lucy explaining Aslan's instructions to her siblings after they were each wrapped in blankets and snuggled in their tent, enjoying being safe and with them—which was _home_ more than any place could be—once again.

The next morning, before leaving, all the Narnians worked to clean up the mess the Fell had left behind. They dug a pit to bury the bodies, removed anything of value from the camp (finding the original owners was a headache three of the siblings were very glad belonged to Susan, as she had a knack for it), and burned the remaining rags. Lucy helped with collecting things for the fire, running back and forth from one end of the former camp to the other, tossing things into the flames that burned in the center and thoroughly enjoying it. Peter, Susan, and Edmund all started the morning on the same task—right beside her, as a matter of fact—but Susan was soon pulled away for the items of value, and then Peter was called away to discuss setting up a hunt for the Werewolves, Dogs, and other creatures that had been out of the Fell camp when they attacked. Edmund stayed with her for a couple of hours, always within eyesight. The one time Lucy ducked into a tent to grab the foul-smelling, blood-stained leather sheaths for the fire, she distinctly heard him curse the moment she was out of sight.

"Don't _do_ that, Lu," he complained, appearing behind her a moment later. Lucy looked from him to the tent opening.

"Where do you think I could go?" she asked curiously.

"You were kidnapped in the middle of a ride in our own kingdom, and you're wondering why I think you can get up to trouble in the middle of a _Fell Camp_," Edmund said crossly.

"I could have escaped if Aslan hadn't told me to stay."

"But you didn't, and ended up with a Minotaur's blade at your throat." Edmund sighed. "I had nightmares last night, Lu. Just—stay within my eyesight for now. Please?" Lucy dropped the crusty leather and went and hugged her brother. She should have seen the shadows in his eyes; it always hit Edmund hard when an innocent person was threatened.

"Promise," she whispered into the hug. She felt him relax and smiled before letting go, turning back to pick up the leathers. Edmund grabbed the rest of them without comment.

Lucy kept her promise the rest of the morning, and ever after claimed the incidents that followed weren't _her_ fault. Peter, concerned when he learned from Socrates (who had followed one or the other of the two Kings around all morning, his brother a shadow following Socrates as faithfully as Edmund had followed Lucy) how many scouts had been missing from the camp, called for Edmund. Socrates delivered the message, sitting eagerly at Edmund's feet, eyes bright. Edmund glanced from him to Lucy, uneasy.

"I'm fine!" Lucy called from across the clearing. They'd been collapsing the tents, having decided to burn them too. "Go on, Peter needs you."

Edmund sighed. "Do not get into trouble," he warned Lucy. She giggled.

"Yes, Peter." She giggled again at Edmund's wry face. "Would you rather, 'Yes, Susan'?"

"Spare me!" Edmund said, finally laughing. Lucy had been aching for that sound, though she hadn't realized it. She needed her siblings laughing again. Edmund was a good start. "You win, sister mine. I'm going, I'm going!" He bowed, making Lucy laugh again, and turned back to Socrates. He followed the Wolf to the trees, near the Wolves' old home, his laughter fading back into a warrior's concentration.

The oldest Cub did not follow, though he watched his brother till Socrates was near the Centaur and the Kings. Satisfied his younger sibling was safe, the Red Cub stalked over to Lucy. She looked up.

"Queen," he said simply. Lucy, considering him, set down the wooden stakes she'd been collecting and straightened.

"Yes?"

He hesitated. "Mother made you Pack." Lucy nodded. His head was tilting from side to side. She'd seen it in Ferela's kin; he was thinking. "I did not." Lucy nodded again. "I—I did not think you were strong enough to be Pack, and I did not want another smaller pack-mate to keep safe." He lowered his head. "Then I did not even keep Socrates safe," he growled out, and Lucy laid her hand on his head, like she'd done so often now with his mother.

"Come on," she said impulsively. "Let's go for a walk." He looked at her. "I go for a walk in the woods when I'm upset. I'll go with you." She wanted him away from the camp—from the battlefield, the place where his brother had almost died the night before. She was pretty sure if he'd had a human face it would be as shadowed with nightmares as Edmund's was.

They slipped out of the camp easily, heading up the hill to where they'd slept the night before. It was a peaceful place, Lucy thought, sitting at the top. The Wolf sat next to her.

"Grukius' strength failed." He swung his head to look at her. Suddenly he collapsed on the grass, still looking at her with one eye. "I don't understand," he admitted, his voice a mix of pleading and a whine. "He was the strongest in the camp, but he died first, before any of the others! I thought—I thought his strength would keep his Pack safe, but they're almost all dead now. And _you_—you had a little dagger and a little bottle, and not one of your Pack died. Yours is the stronger side, and I want you for my Pack now, but I don't understand how you're stronger."

Lucy drew her knees up, thinking back to a dark night when it had been her, Susan, and a Lion who didn't fight. "The stronger side isn't always the right one." She looked out over the camp. "Well, it is—Aslan is always stronger. Even when He doesn't win—when He died—He still won. He won my brother's life." She looked over to the Wolf. "Have you heard that story?" she asked him.

"Yes," he said. "But it did not make much sense. How could He keep His Pack safe if He was dead?"

"He died _for_ His Pack," Lucy explained. "And He came back again. But sometimes the ones fighting for Him lose." She thought for a moment. "I lost. I didn't win against the camp all by myself; I had to lose to them first."

"But you won in the end!" he protested.

"But I didn't know I was going to," she said seriously. "And I would have stayed on His side anyway. Because He is good, and right, even when His side isn't the stronger one."

"You had to lose…in order to win?" The Wolf was tilting his head side to side again. "But—if He lost to win your brother—did you lose to win us?" Lucy nodded.

"I think that's why He sent me here. And to make sure they didn't win anymore, either."

He sighed. "That makes sense." He snorted. "Quee—Lucy?" He glanced at her with one eye. "I would have made you pack anyway," he admitted. "Because you saved my brother." He paused again. "Grukius wouldn't have done that. If—if Aslan loves them, then I think I'll love Aslan too. And I'll fight on His side, even when it's not the stronger one."

Lucy smiled, warm inside. "Just wait till you meet Him." Aslan hadn't just sent her to save Ren, but a whole _Pack_. She stroked the Wolf's head; He had all four of them now.

"I really don't think that's going to happen," a voice behind them growled. Lucy whirled, falling over and jumping back up again.

In front of them was a Fox, feet braced, and a sneer curling his long mouth.

"_You_," the Wolf growled.

"Me," the Fox responded softly. "Me, and you, and one of the usurpers. All the rest dead, even Volcron? Yes, I thought so. But somehow you're alive. Should I guess how?"

"Because he's chosen Aslan's side," Lucy responded firmly. She'd unsheathed her dagger the instant she'd heard the Fox's tone, and beside her the Wolf bristled.

"A traitor following a traitor king." The Fox's eyes flickered from one to the other. "And here I thought you had the sense to follow a _real_ leader, Cub."

"Grukius was better than a stupid _Fox_ who slunk about, informing on everyone and scared of his own shadow," the Wolf shot back. "But I've seen real warriors fight, and a real Queen heal."

"Why are you even talking to us?" Lucy asked slowly. The Wolf's words about the fearfulness of the Fox rang in her ears; a coward would never attempt to take on a Wolf and a Warrior at the same time.

"Because I needed to keep your attention for just…a moment…longer," the Fox snarled, right before the snarl softened into a scowl. "Look behind you, _Cubs_." Lucy whirled; behind them were three Dogs and a Werewolf, watching with glittering eyes. Lucy sucked in a breath. "Meet your _new_ kidnappers. You're all we need to ensure we get away safely."

This was a fight Lucy could not win without help, and she knew it. She _had_ to keep the Wolf safe, too, for Ren. "Peter!" she screamed. "Susan! Edmund! Oreius!" The Fox behind her cursed, and the dogs lunged forward; the Wolf jumped at the same time, meeting one Dog and taking it down; Lucy stepped to the side and plunged her dagger in another, but the third fastened itself around her arm, teeth digging in, and she yelled. The Dog yanked back, digging deeper, down, pulling her in the same motion towards the trees, and a hand behind her caught her other wrist, clenching till she dropped the dagger.

"Lucy! No!" the Wolf yelped, and he threw himself at the Dog, claws scratching down his enemy's side. The Dog yelped, releasing Lucy's arm.

It hurt so much. Lucy's eyes were streaming tears, blurring everything. She tried to lift her other arm, to get the dagger, but it hurt too much, and that hand was still pulling, pulling, pulling at her wrist. She twisted it, trying to get free, but the hand just tightened, and she could hear the Werewolf growling, still dragging her backwards. The Wolf and Dog were still ripping at each other.

A whistling sound she knew well rang out, and immediately the hand on her wrist let go. She looked back; blinking. Susan's arrow was in the Werewolf's heart. She clutched her shredded arm to her waist and looked back—the Wolf, where was the oldest Wolf brother?

He was panting, looking at the Dog lying on the forest floor, and at Ren standing over the body, Ferela a few paces behind.

"My son," Ren panted, her teeth red, and the grown Cub moved forward to nudge her. "You're not hurt?" He shook his head. "I _must_ teach you how to fight," Ren whispered, licking him.

"I will help you," Ferela said from behind them quietly. Ren paused. She turned to look at the other Wolf, who met her gaze unflinchingly. "I, too, know what it is to be a desperate mother," she offered quietly.

"Thank you. Lucy," she spun, sniffing, "are you hurt? I smell blood-"

"And tears," Ferela broke in, running forward, sniffing at Lucy's arm. "Ren, Cub, get the others, quickly!"

Ren broke away, running back towards the camp, only to halt. The rest of the Narnians were running, swords unsheathed, up the hill.

"Lucy! Queen Lucy! Your Majesty!" Lucy, still blinking away tears, recognized several of those voices.

"Get the healers," a tense voice said from right beside her, and she felt a hand on her elbow and another on her fingers, gently pulling out the bleeding arm. It was Peter.

"Here, use my shirt-" that was Edmund, and a moment later a green cloth wrapped around her arm, put there by clever, white fingers. "Susan will be up in a moment," she heard him soothe her, and she looked up.

"This isn't helping with the nightmares, is it?" she asked, wanting to make him laugh, but unable to ask without crying. Edmund didn't bother answering.

"Here, sit." Peter guided her back, away from the bodies, and took all her weight as he eased her down to the grass.

"How is she?" Oreius, Lucy was pretty sure, but she had her head on her knees, Peter holding her arm out to the side. She tried to wipe the tears away and think clearly.

She couldn't. This hurt _so much_ she felt like screaming, but she wouldn't do that. Not to her siblings. Or the Narnians.

"I'm here," said a rushing voice on the same side as Peter. "Oh, poor Lucy! Let me take her arm, Peter, I've done this for you all often enough. And here's the healer."

Lucy felt her arm being unwrapped but didn't bother to look. It often felt worse if she looked.

"They're deep, Your Majesties. I think those teeth hit bone," she heard the steady voice of the Faun healer they'd brought along, Timorous, say.

"Should we use the cordial?" That was Peter, his voice tense but even.

"There could be permanent damage," Timorous admitted. Hands tugged briefly at her belt, and then she felt a hand on her head, too small to be Peter's, a little too hard to be Susan's.

"Lucy, look up," Edmund said urgently, and behind her she heard a small whine. She looked up, still blinking away water; why couldn't she _stop crying_? "Here, Lu, open up," and she obediently opened her mouth and felt a drop of that strong, searing, healing liquid on her tongue. A breath, another, and the pain was gone. She moved her arm, gently, because Susan was still holding it, and sighed in relief.

"I'm all right," she said, and tugged her arm away to help wipe away the tears, hearing numerous sighs of relief, from either side, behind her, and even over her head. She looked up; Oreius was there.

"Lucy," demanded Peter, "_what were you thinking?_"

OOOOO

**Response to Anonymousme: I apologise for neglecting the "me" in your name - I'm guessing the shortened version was due to my dear friend autocorrect. I'm so glad you liked the chapter so much; it's a wonderful thing to hear as an author. And I'm also glad writing made your day a little better. Humor in general does that. I'm not quite sure what will happen at Cair Paravel, or if we'll even get into it. The story may end as soon as the walls are in sight, or the courtyard. It seems a fitting end, since that was where the story began. But since I've haven't written the last chapter yet, I've only a general idea. But in answer to your question - since all the soldiers know the truth of the Cubs parentage, I can't imagine them hiding it.**

**Response to Aslan's Daughter: the comparison between the oldest Cub and Doubting Thomas hadn't occurred to me, but it's avery apt comparison. But there's a wonderful truth that the weak and the doubting still have a place in Aslan's kingdom. And there He makes them strong. I meant the comparison between Susan and Ren, but Aravis didn't occur to me either. The connections you make are wonderful, and I really enjoy reading them. Thanks for reviewing!**


	14. Chapter14

**Disclaimer: I was given the brilliant idea (not telling by whom, as I don't want them lynched, I like them) to just end the story with the last chapter. For Lucy's sake. And I rather thought that'd be funny, but I wasn't sure I'd be left alive to enjoy the laughter, so this chapter isn't owned by me, as it's not even my fault, but written under duress. **

**Beta'd by trustingHim17, with my thanks!**

OOOOO

Lucy looked at Peter, confused, still reeling from the amount of pain she'd been in. "What?" Her tone, childlike, frightened, stopped him and he shut his eyes.

"He means you going off, on your own, with Fell still in the area," Edmund cut in shortly. He was gripping Lucy's unharmed arm, her cordial still in his hand. "_I_ mean you breaking your promise to me," he added bitterly.

"Edmund," Peter began wearily, but Susan cut him off.

"Enough. We get her out of here, she sleeps or calms down, and _then_ we discuss this." She stood, putting her hands under Lucy's arms and lifting her up. Once Lucy was standing, Susan wrapped her arms all the way around her younger sister. "We _will_ talk about this," she said more softly. "But not while you're crying."

"I'm not, not anymore" Lucy choked, her voice shaking. Susan didn't bother replying. Lucy wasn't _crying_ anymore, but everyone knew she wasn't all right.

They withdrew from the clearing with the bodies. Peter and Edmund set up a guard that circled them while out of sight (and immediate hearing), and Susan directed Ren and her children, as well as Ferela (who had refused to leave), to a area nearby where they could recover. She sighed and came to sit across from Lucy, while Peter and Edmund flanked her.

Nestled between her siblings, each leaning onto an arm, and Susan across from her, Lucy felt quite safe. Susan watched her till her breathing steadied and her smile began to come back.

"Better?" Susan asked quietly.

"Much," Lucy responded, and Peter put an arm around her shoulders.

"We need to talk," the High King commanded gravely, and Lucy looked up at him. "You cannot, cannot keep putting yourself in danger, Lu."

"I didn't mean to!" Lucy protested. "I just went for a walk so we could talk, and think for a bit. It's nothing you haven't done yourself!"

"_I_ am sensible about it! You've a bad habit of walking off into danger without thinking," Edmund retorted. "Think about it Lu! You rode into a forest filled with Fell Beasts, got kidnapped by a Wolf and stayed with her even though you were attacked by an Ogre, got yourself in trouble while surrounded by soldiers that hated you, and then, when you're finally safe again, walked away from all the people who would keep you so and sat on a hill _while there were still enemies around!_"

"Aslan told me to stay with Ren!"

"He didn't tell you to make yourself a target for the Dogs and Werewolf, did He? Of course not!"

"That was an _accident_."

"It was a mistake." Peter's voice was stern, and both his siblings stopped. "Yes, Lu, Aslan told you to stay with Ren, and I'm not questioning that. But what you did just now was careless. You knew there were still enemies around, and you went out of the camp with a dagger and a Cub, and you didn't stay aware of your surroundings."

"You're a Queen, Lucy," Susan added gently. "You can't _be_ careless. It's not safe."

Lucy looked down at her knees, blinking water from her eyes. She wanted to protest again that it wasn't her fault, that she didn't mean to get in these situations - but she'd known, from the very beginning, that her siblings wouldn't approve. But she'd had to go on that adventure, even if she couldn't explain why.

But if she couldn't explain why, how could she explain this to them?

Beside her Edmund sighed. "Look, Lu," he said, and Lucy heard the tone he'd adopted at so many negotiations, when two wronged parties didn't want to listen to each other. "Peter's right, don't ever think of disobeying Aslan - we both know Peter _would_ say that, and so would you, and you're both right - but Aslan didn't tell you to take this walk, did He?" Lucy shook her head, wary but listening. "So do what Aslan says, but if the idea you're following isn't actually His, try to have a care about it, right?" Lucy breathed out. She didn't really feel like listening - but Edmund had an annoying habit of being right when he said something he really meant.

And that attack had really, really hurt.

"I agree," she said, her voice small. "I'll try to think more."

Peter hugged her with the arm around her shoulders, and Edmund laid back on the grass, staring up at the sky. Even Susan's shoulders relaxed a little.

"At least as long as there are enemies around," Susan added. "Just take extra care, Lucy. Common sense is a necessary grace for us."

"Because if you stopped being impulsive you wouldn't quite be our little sister anymore," Peter finished, and Lucy leaned against him.

They stayed quiet for a while, breathing, thinking, and resting in each other's company. As time passed and they rested, they felt better.

Susan, however, often felt better by making things in general better, and she got to her feet. "I'm going to see how much is left to be done, and how quickly we can leave." She glanced around the forest and added quietly, "I, for one, am quite ready to be home." Peter nodded.

"I'll go with you," he said, after Susan sent him one of those glances that meant she had something to say but didn't want the younger siblings to hear it, and he too got to his feet, escorting his sister to their sentries. Lacy sat, grateful for the quiet, broken only be indistinct growls as the Wolf family and their friend soothed their own fears.

"I'm sorry," she said at last to Edmund, who startled and looked up at her.

"For?"

"Losing my temper," Lucy admitted, ducking her head. "Pax?"

"If you'll accept my apology for losing mine," Edmund agreed ruefully, sitting up. He held out his hand. "Pax." They shook on it, a custom they'd kept from the days they'd almost forgotten, and one the Dwarves in particular were keen to imitate.

Still holding her hand, Edmund got to his feet and pulled Lucy to hers. "I have a feeling that Susan left us alone so we'd do just that," he thought out loud, his tone dry. He smiled mischievously down at Lucy. "Shall we act as though we're still at odds, just to put her off?" Lucy grinned just thinking about it. "There," Edmund said. "That's a much better smile."

"We'd better not." Lucy glanced towards where their siblings were conversing with Oreius. "I think I've given enough excitement for the day, and I'd hate to push the older two past their limits."

"Or Oreius, I suppose." Edmund sighed. "Well, at least it made you smile. Shall we?" he asked, bowing and offering his arm, and Lucy took it with another smile, and they walked towards their siblings, the Wolves getting to their feet and following a few paces behind.

"Oreius says we're ready to leave," Susan called, her eyes flitting from one sibling to the other, and a smile of approval lit her face. Edmund and Lucy exchanged knowing glances.

"Did you bring Chester?" Lucy asked eagerly. "I left him behind, oh, days ago."

"He is with the soldiers preparing for the return journey, Your Majesty," Oreius replied gravely.

"Thank you, Oreius. I'm glad he's safe."

"Let's see if he can keep _you_ safe this time," Edmund muttered, but Lucy could tell he wasn't angry, so she elbowed him.

"Can we assist in preparing to leave?" Susan asked Oreius, serenely ignoring her younger siblings.

"Only by mounting and taking your place at the head," the General responded, and Susan turned towards the direction he indicated.

"You'll leave the troops we discussed - especially the archers - to take out the remaining Werewolves and Crows?" Peter checked, and Oreius bowed.

"It will be done, King Peter."

"Then that's one force mostly dealt with," Peter said with relief. He turned to follow Susan.

The Narnians were mounted and on their way home - _home_, Lucy thought with longing - within an hour. The Cubs running with the soldiers at first, learning to hunt and run, but gradually ending up on the saddles of the soldiers (or Sovereigns) when their endurance ended. Lucy didn't mind, as long as they kept going. She wanted to be home, in her bedroom, or greeting the Dryads by the orchard, or the Merfolk on the shore, or showing Ren where she'd live, or doing the _good_, happy things that Queens did at home, and not worrying about adventures anymore.

At least, not for another few days. Maybe next week she'd go looking for another one. She looked down at Rena, settled uncomfortably behind Lucy and currently dozing. (Oreius had not wanted her to ride his back again, stating he still had scratches from the last time, and he didn't mind in favor of rescuing their Majesties, but he was _not_ going to offer rides on a regular basis to clawed animals.) Lucy patted the Wolf's head, and Rena opened her eyes.

"Lucy?" she asked seriously.

"Yes?"

"Are you going to name Big Brother?"

Lucy straightened. "What?"

"You gave me Rena, and Little Brother Socrates, and now that Big Brother completed his first hunt, I wanted to know if you were going to name him, even if he says no?"

Lucy wasn't sure which question to address first, but decided on one of the more obvious ones. "When did he complete his first hunt?" she asked.

Rena blinked, yawned, tried to sit up, and nearly lost her balance, yelping as she slid towards the ground. Lucy grabbed her neck and nearly fell off herself, the Queen's small weight far too light to stop the fall of a full-grown Wolf. Rena stopped herself, however, by falling flat on her stomach. Cautiously, she found her balance again, and Lucy let go of her, both of them panting. "Sorry," Rena said in a small voice. "What did you ask again?"

"What was his first hunt?" Lucy panted, trying to slow her breathing. She really hadn't wanted an adventure _quite_ so soon, but perhaps riding with Rena would always be an adventure.

"Protecting you!" Rena replied, her tone indicating Lucy was quite silly for not figuring this out. "He wanted his first hunt to be protecting Pack, and you're pack now, so Mother said last night it counted. He _did_ protect you, right?" Lucy remembered teeth dragging on her arm bone, then releasing as the Red Cub threw himself at the attacking Dog. She kept her shudder inside and nodded. "And you were hurt, so he said it couldn't be a successful first hunt, but Mother said you were alive, and unharmed by the end of things, and no Wolf would demand no injuries when it was a fight of two against five, and she made him agree."

"So he needs a name," Lucy realised.

"Yes!" Rena agreed, beginning to bounce. Lucy quickly set a hand on her to settle her, and Rena obliged. "But he wants to pick his _own_ name,* and Mother agreed. Did you pick one yet?" she called to their left. A grumpy sigh was her only answer. "I don't think he'll be any good at picking names, but he's too stubborn to let you pick one," she informed Lucy. "He's even too stubborn to let Mother pick one! So I don't think it's going to be a good name, and he's going to be stuck with it!" She started pant-laughing, her tongue hanging out, and Lucy tried hard not to laugh with her. She didn't think the Unnamed Wolf would appreciate it.

She did, however, ride closer to the soldier carrying him, and suggested several names for him. Edmund, Susan, and finally Peter overheard her and came and offered names as well, enjoying the fun of it.

The Wolf refused every single one of them.

The Pevensies took it good-naturedly; it was, after all, his own name. And suggesting things passed the time till they reached their camp for the night.

Peter and Edmund insisted on being a part of the watch, now that there were no more expected battles. They also insisted Lucy had had enough excitement and needed her sleep, and that she needed at least one sibling near her, and it had better be Susan. Susan, smiling, negotiated between the three till they agreed Lucy would sleep the night through for that night only, and all four of them would take turns standing watch all the other nights. Lucy smiled. _That's my Queenly sister,_ she thought to herself, wrapping her blanket completely around her and rolling close to Susan.

"Lucy?" came the whisper in the dark, her sister's gentle voice.

"Yes?"

"I'm so glad you're back."

Lucy unwrapped one side of the blanket to squeeze Susan's hand.

"Lucy?"

"Yes?"

"Please don't do that again." Lucy was torn. She couldn't promise Susan not to. "That was terrifying," Susan added, a hitch in her voice. "I - I wasn't sure we'd get you back. I - I don't think I could keep going if I lost you. If I lost any of you. I had to be strong for Peter and Edmund, but I was so afraid, Lucy. Please don't do that again."

Lucy squeezed her hand once more. "Aslan had me," she whispered back. "He has you too, Susan. And He'll never let go."

Susan sighed. "Yes," she agreed quietly. She patted Lucy's hand. "Cover up before you get cold," she coaxed, rolling away, closer to the tent wall. Lucy obeyed, quickly falling asleep.

She didn't hear Susan crying, tears springing from a painful mix of fear and relief. Susan wept for what could have happened, for what hadn't, and for all the pain she'd felt imagining it would. But as she cried, she released it, her tears growing scarcer as she remembered her sister's faith - a faith that had eventually led Lucy back to them. Susan had finished crying and was more at peace by the time their brothers returned, and the Gentle Queen once more put on the strength her siblings depended on, settling her brothers to rest before falling asleep herself.

The next morning the camp ate a quick breakfast and set out, eager to get home. The Red Cub had spent much of the night thinking, it seemed, but his mother hadn't liked his choices, as the names resembled that of the Fell they'd left. He grumbled but agreed he didn't want to be associated with them and set to thinking once more.

Lucy was doing some thinking of her own. She decided it was time to lighten the fears she still saw lurking, and to make those around her smile again. She looked at the other three, riding a single length ahead or to the side.

"Peter?" Lucy heard the pause that meant her siblings were listening, even if they were wary of answering her tone. "I think there's something all three of you forgot about." Peter looked over at her, and Susan and Edmund each raised an eyebrow. "I think when I get home, I should get a reward for finding the last of the Fell?"

A sigh of exasperation was her only answer; that, and a groan on Edmund's part.

"You did do a very good job of that, Your Majesty," Oreius agreed from behind them. "But I'd most definitely prefer you didn't employ that means again."

Lucy pouted. "But it worked so well!"

"Until you got hurt."

"Well, I'd skip that part." She put on her best, most appealing look. "Do you think you could train me to fight well enough I could skip that part?"

Susan was the one to break first, falling into peals of dancing laughter, and Susan's laughter made hearts ring with gladness at the joy and beauty mixed. Soon the entire company was laughing, some falling to quiet chuckles and others bent double over their horses or slapping their knees. The laughter continued as Lucy and her siblings fell to teasing one another, Oreius contributing with his dry humor. Lucy thought he looked at her with approval, though she soon forgot that in watching the Wolf Pack.

They were watching their new family in wonder, eyes alight as they saw joy truly revealed for the first time - the joy that springs from being with those who loved each other.

_This_, Lucy thought to herself, _is the most wonderful homecoming I could ask for from any adventure._

It was one she'd always want.

For she did plan on having more adventures, after she was a little better trained, and a little more careful. She tried to persuade Oreius to start training her on more than archery or using her dagger that very night, during the camp, but he refused, repeating to her what Father Christmas had said the first time she'd seen him - that battles are ugly when women fight, and he would allow no ten-year-old in a battle ever if he could help it.**

So she practiced throwing her dagger during her watch and keeping a careful ear out for any enemies.

At least, she did those until she accidentally woke a Dryad by touching her tree, and then she spent the rest of her watch conversing, till a soldier came to replace her and sent her kindly off to bed. Lucy fell asleep remembering they would be home tomorrow.

Cair Paravel seemed so close, but Lucy felt like the trip had barely begun. The trip with Ren had taken forever, and yet this one seemed so short, when made with her family, friends, and Pack. The last day of this adventure, Ren herself came to wake them up, and settled them next to her Cubs to break their fast.

Breakfast was again short, but just as they were finishing, the Red Cub came trotting up. "I've decided on a name," he announced to them all. They looked up, interested. "Durai." he informed them. Lucy looked from him to Peter, who was just as confused as she was, to Ren, who was beginning to smile even while shaking her head, to Edmund, who was outright grinning.

"It means chief or leader," the younger King told the others. "I've been a bit tempted to call Peter than when he's being especially lordly."

"I'm going to be a chief who protects the entire Pack," Durai told them calmly. "I'm already beginning to learn, and when I'm done, our Pack is going to include everyone who lives in our new home. I'm going to keep them _all_ safe."

"And they'll probably listen to you as much as Socrates and Rena do," Peter put in, shoving Edmund, who hadn't stopped grinning. Peter collected his sisters' dishes and stood. "But welcome to the Pack, Durai. Serve Aslan well, and you will serve the Pack well," he added seriously. Durai nodded, catching the earnestness Peter imparted. "If you serve well, and serve honorably, there will come a time when you will be sworn to Aslan's knights, or His guard, or perhaps something else He has for you. How you serve Him now will train you for serving Him then." Durai nodded again, and looked from Peter, to Oreius, to Edmund.

"Will you train me?" he asked hopefully.

"We promise," Peter replied. Durai sighed contentedly, and went to stand by his mother. Lucy looked at them, at Ren, renamed to a name she'd thought she'd never deserve again, to Rena, Socrates, and Durai, learning to not only be grown, but be Aslan's. This is what her adventure had been about. This was worth every moment of fear, every fight with Ogre, Minotaur, or Dog, and every scrape or deep wound, because this was bringing people to Aslan.

This was the best kind of adventure she could have.

She wondered, as they mounted, as they rode on, as the walls of Cair Paravel rose in the distance, what her next adventure would be.

One where she would be a little more careful—or at least a little better trained.

Maybe it'd be the one she'd meant to do this time, she thought to herself. Maybe she'd go find that oddly-shaped, non-wooden tree a little ways from Mr. Tumnus' house that she vaguely remembered. No, she supposed. That was a fair distance away, Ren had said, and she wasn't ready to go quite that far again. Not yet. Finding the tree, and finding out what was beyond it, would just have to wait. She really must go back and explore it some day; but not too soon.

Not until her siblings were a little less upset, or they could at least go with her.

OOOOO

***A/N: the sibling fight (such as it was; hopefully it met what you wanted) was requested by Namw, the Cub's name was created by trustingHim17, and BellatrixTheStar had the idea of Durai wanting to name himself, and my thanks go to each for contributing to a story that was a great deal of fun to write. **

****Lucy had great fun reminding him of that when she found out Shasta and Corin managed to slip into the Battle of Anvard. **

**Response to Guest: I'm so glad you loved it; hopefully this was soon enough! Thank you for reviewing!**

**Response to Rose: I'm sorry I couldn't update sooner; weekends get a bit busy. But enjoy the last chapter!**

**Response to Anonymousme (or Me): My next story takes place at the beginning of LWW, so I don't think I can fit Cubs not yet born into it, sadly. It's an Edmund story, and will be a hard one to write, so I'm writing my Christmas stories in the middle of writing it to cheer myself up. :) I'll try for more humorous stories next year, more like this one. I'm really glad you liked the oldest Cub. I'm still not totally satisfied with his name, but I think he'll grow into it, and that's a good thing for a character, to have room for growth, and it was a wonderful suggestion. Your writing of the conversation made me smile - if you ever want to write a companion piece to any these they'd probably make me smile as well. I never mind hearing others ideas (and it's not pushy) as long as I have the freedom to disagree. Which, in this case, I do. To explain why: there's a distinct, though subtle, difference between Lucy in the books and Lucy in fanfiction (even mine). She's the type of girl to have the joy that runs so deeply it makes her quiet, a girl who sees things and takes them in, (_The Last Battle_), while I tend to write her and I often read her as an exuberant extrovert. Peter being overprotective is another of the same, I think - he takes the duel with Miraz himself, but lets Edmund fight Trumpkin, they don't set a watch when they're in enemy territory while traveling in Prince Caspian, and while he runs to Susan's defense while fighting Fenris, Lucy does end up going to battle and this appears to be rather regular, even though she's with the archers. He guards his siblings but doesn't overprotect them, kind of like my older brother. I like reading the overprotective Peter, but try to find the balance between the two as I write him. But a great King - and he was one - would not lose his head often, and in Prince Caspian his first instinct is to deal with the immediate problem, like a good leader, and not completely lose focus by guarding his siblings. Sensible is often the word I think of for him, and that counteracts overprotective to a great degree. Sensible people make very good kings. **


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